Refuge
by LRWrites
Summary: After failing to complete his task, Draco Malfoy cannot return to the Dark Lord. Instead, he seeks refuge from the one person he least wants to see. Warnings: HD Slash, Magical Creature
1. A Second Detour

Title: Refuge

Rating: R

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Disclaimer: Characters and universe owned by J.K. Rowling.

Summary: What if the reason Draco Malfoy ran to Harry Potter was because he couldn't live without him? Would a moment of indecision on Draco's part be enough to secure him Harry's protection and eventually his love?

Warnings: Slash. Magical Creature: Veela!Draco.

A/N: A HUGE HUGE thanks to the ever-patient, ever-thorough RAISINOUS FIENDLING for being the best beta ever.

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**Chapter One  
**

The Second Detour

---

As soon as Draco's feet hit the ground after Apparating away from Hogwarts, he doubled over and vomited. He saw Snape's sneer but the other man stayed quiet.

After a moment Snape pulled Draco up by the arm. "Come, Draco. We must hurry."

As they ran through the woods towards Snape's home, Draco couldn't help feeling that he'd lost something he'd sorely miss. He thought the sinking feeling was only fear of what the Dark Lord would do to him once he found out he had failed, but he couldn't brush away the nagging feeling that it wasn't fear at all, but tremendous loss. It couldn't possibly be for Dumbledore.

Snape threw open the door to his shabby abode and ushered Draco in, hastily bolting it shut behind them. Immediately, he barricaded the door that Draco knew led to Pettigrew's bedroom.

When Snape finally turned towards him, Draco realized he looked furious and a bit frightened.

"You have failed, Draco. You were unable to kill Dumbledore. There will be consequences."

Draco closed his eyes and nodded, trying his best to fight his tears.

Snape sighed. "You have a choice."

Draco shook his head. "No, I don't. I made my choice."

"You have a choice," Snape continued, as if he hadn't heard the interruption. "I cannot go back to Hogwarts or to the Order. My place will be with the Dark Lord. However, you must realize that he will always be waiting for you to repay your father's debt. You are more than likely going to fail."

Tears rolled down Draco's cheeks as he nodded, finally losing control of his emotions. He knew he had messed up and he certainly knew what was expected of him. Snape didn't need to remind him. He already felt as though this one night was going to ruin his life forever.

"Potter was on that balcony tonight. He will not blame you for the death. He will, I believe, forgive you for letting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, but you will have to go to him as soon as you can."

Despite himself, Draco cried harder. "What are you saying? I'm n-not a spy!"

Snape shook his head. He was tired and very frustrated with Draco. "You won't be a spy. You are not coming back to the Dark Lord. I will let him know that you disappeared or died -- it does not matter. Listen, Draco, I promised your mother I would assist you in any way I could. What she did not know, and I will tell you now, is that I have not been loyal to the Dark Lord. I will go back to him but I will continue to work against him, to try to defeat him."

Draco's tears stopped, and he sat on one of the threadbare sofas. "My mother," he whispered, his voice wavering as he thought of all his mother had done to protect him. Now he was unable to save her.

"Whether or not you return to the Dark Lord, it will not affect your mother's fate. That is, if the Dark Lord has decided to kill her, you will not be able to stop him. There are many things you do not understand, Draco. Your mother and father made their choices; it is time for you to make yours. We do not have long. He will be expecting us."

Draco began to shake as he thought of his mother, and of running to Potter. He gathered his strength. "I'm not a traitor like you," he sneered, "I _will_ go back."

Draco stood, but Snape grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. It was not anger that moved him, but fear. Draco did not understand, and they didn't have the time to debate each other. "You insolent brat, I am trying to help you! Don't you see? You will not last under the Dark Lord's service. You will be killed, if not today, then tomorrow! You cannot save your mother; you cannot do anything for anyone! You must run!"

Draco sagged against Snape, and the older man released him, letting him fall to the ground.

"Potter hates me," Draco cried. "He won't trust me. He won't help me. I'm as good as dead going to him for help."

Snape snarled in anger. "Listen to me, Draco. Potter may be the most brazen, irresponsible _Gryffindor_ to have ever been born, but he will be more than willing to take in a reformed Death Eater. He will do what Dumbledore would have done. He will do it for the same reason Dumbledore thought your life was worth saving."

"And why was that?" asked Draco, his voice and his spirit weakening. He couldn't help thinking that Snape was wrong. Dumbledore may have offered him protection, but any protection from Potter would come at much too high a price. He would probably have to change his name and his face before Potter agreed to speak to him.

"Do you know what you are, Draco? Do you know what blood runs in your veins?" Snape asked, his fury gone. He was watching Draco carefully.

"Of course I do," said Draco proudly. "I'm a pureblood Wizard."

"You're more than that!" Snape's voice was rising again but he took a steadying breath and appraised Draco for a moment. "You are part veela."

Draco's eyes flashed. "How do you know that?" He backed away from the other man and his fear increased as he thought of what damage that information could cause him.

"Does it matter, Draco? The point is, Dumbledore knew what you were, and he knew who your soul mate is." Draco started to argue, but Snape shot his wand out to silence him. Draco tried his voice twice and failed. "Listen to me. You are part veela, and the magic in you is strong enough to have bound itself to another soul, and that soul just happens to belong to Harry Potter... but you knew this"

Draco glared at Snape. The professor's look was appraising.

"How long have you known?" Snape asked coolly.

Draco swallowed. It was painful to think of how long he had known and it was even more difficult to say it out loud. Finally, in a hoarse voice, he answered. "A year, maybe more."

"And were you planning on ignoring it? Hoping it would go away? Did you want the Dark Lord to find out?" Snape asked, approaching the fair boy once more.

"I don't know," answered Draco quietly. "I had to save my mother."

"At what price, Draco? At what price were you willing to save someone who is beyond your help?"

Draco started to argue but Snape interrupted him. "We don't have time! You cannot go back to the Dark Lord. You must go to Potter."

"HE WON'T BELIEVE ME!" Draco shouted at Snape. He was desperately trying to control his emotions. There was no use in Draco thinking Potter would save him; it would only cause him more pain in the end.

Snape had a mug in his hand, which he shoved into Draco's as he barked, "Then make him!"

Draco's stomach dropped just as he felt the familiar pull of the Portkey at his navel. As he moved through time and space, he wished with all his might that he had never been born so that he wouldn't have to face whatever was waiting for him.

He landed on his backside on well-kept grass in the middle of a Muggle suburb. A batty looking woman came shuffling out of a nearby door to meet him. She looked around nervously before addressing him. "Don't think anyone saw you. It's dark enough, I reckon."

Draco looked at her bewilderedly. "Excuse me?"

She ignored him. Coaxing him up and leading him into the house, she said, "Never mind, never mind all that, let's just get you inside."

The house was full of cats. They meowed at him and bared their teeth at him as he looked around the dwelling. He had never been inside a Muggle house before, but this house, he could tell, was not completely ordinary. Magic lingered in the air, and although unmoving pictures littered the walls, none of the people in them looked remotely related to the woman that had shown him in.

Draco turned to see where the woman had gone off to and found her coming towards him with a tea tray. "Well, don't just stand around all day," she said, "come have a seat."

He followed her into the sitting room and took a seat on the armchair facing a box with a glass front. She handed him a cup and Draco tried to spot her wand. She had a bathrobe on, which appeared to have more than enough pockets to hide a wand in.

"May I ask who you are?" Draco implored, doing his best to be polite.

"Of course, of course. Arabella Figg, my dear. You'll be staying with me for the next couple of weeks."

Draco was affronted by this news. "I will?"

She nodded, looking anxious. "Oh yes, Dumbledore has arranged it all. Until he can find you a secure place, I'll be looking after you."

_Dumbledore..._ "Don't you know?" Draco asked, realizing too late that there was no way she _could_ know, as it had only just happened.

"Know what, m'dear?"

Draco shook his head. He had expected the entire world to stop when a man like Dumbledore dies. "Nothing, never mind. Do you live here alone?"

Mrs. Figg nodded, still looking anxious. "During most of the year, just keep an eye out. When Harry comes back from school, they'll be using the house to keep track of 'im."

"_Potter?_" Draco croaked, though he wasn't surprised. "Does he live here? Are you his aunt?"

"Oh no, no! The Dursleys live two streets down. I'm just here to keep an eye out," she repeated lamely.

Draco sipped his tea and nodded politely. It had to be past two in the morning. He felt strange sitting in Mrs. Figg's Muggle sitting room talking about Harry Potter when just hours ago he had... well, he _hadn't_, Snape had.

As soon as he finished his tea, Mrs. Figg stood and showed him to his room. Draco couldn't help grimacing at his new surroundings. From the pink and green floral wallpaper to the matching bedspread, it had to be one of the most revolting rooms he'd ever been in.

"Thank you," he said graciously to Mrs. Figg.

"I got your measurements from Madam Malkins and took the liberty of buying some muggle clothes for you, dear. I think you'll see that we've taken care of everything." She smiled weakly and added, "Goodnight, dear."

"Night," he replied and locked the door behind her. He threw himself down on the bed and thought he'd have a good cry before going to sleep. However, the tears never came and his brain didn't seem to be able to shut down.

No one had believed him capable of killing Dumbledore. And his precious secret, the one he had fought with all his might to keep from the Dark Lord, from Bellatrix as she taught him Occlumency -- it had been discovered! He really should have known Dumbledore would find him out.

Feeling restless, Draco stood and explored the room. Bags of Muggle clothing lay in the wardrobe; he went about hanging things and putting things in their proper order.

He found a new pair of pajamas and, with trembling fingers, removed his dirty robes and pulled on the fresh clothing. He looked at the pile of black linen lying on the floor. The Hogwart's insignia was visible and Draco kicked the clothes away, doubting he'd ever be allowed back.

He looked through the nightstand and found a book in the top drawer. It was _Veela, Wizards and Soulmates_ by Violet Battleman. Draco quickly shut the drawer and went back to the bed. Not pulling the covers back, he sat on the edge, trying his best to sort through his thoughts.

Everyone had been prepared for this but him. Even Mrs. Figg knew he'd need a hideout for a while. He took solace in the knowledge that he _could_ have accomplished his task if he'd wanted to. He hadn't thought twice, all year, about what would happen. It hadn't been until the moment when he had his wand on Dumbledore that he realized he could not kill the old man. He had chosen Dumbledore's life over his mother's and he knew that he would have to live with the guilt.

He couldn't help but wonder if his mother would be killed and when. Would it be a simple _Avada Kedavra_ or would the Dark Lord torture her first? Would they rape? She was, after all, an extremely attractive pureblood. He thought of Longbottom's parents rotting in St. Mungo's. He imagined his mother in hospital gown, her hair untidy, medi-witches helping her eat and a mad glossy look in her eyes.

He didn't even notice that the tears had started again. He stopped thinking of his mother and thought of what his friends at school would think of his adventure. Crabbe and Goyle would probably think it was all really cool. Pansy would fawn over him and tell him how brave he was, letting all the Death Eaters in under Dumbledore's nose. They all thought it was going to be cool, joining the Dark Lord, and they were all wrong.

None of it had turned out the way he thought it would. He had always thought serving the Dark Lord would be an honor. He thought he'd be able to make his parents proud of him at last. After all, he'd never managed to beat Potter at Quidditch, and his grades always came up short of Granger's. Now he didn't even have a chance at being made Head Boy.

The veela thing didn't bother him so much anymore; he saw it for what it was -- a way out. He knew he was bound to Harry already; it wouldn't matter what Draco wanted or what he did.

Draco curled himself into a ball and tried to shut his eyes. The images of Dumbledore falling from the tower faded after a while, and he felt himself drifting off.


	2. Tea with Cousin Nymphadora

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Two  
**

Tea with Cousin Nymphadora

---

When morning came, Draco awoke to the sound of shouting downstairs. Forgetting where he was, he called out, "Shut up, Crabbe! Goyle!"

Getting no response from his roommates, Draco cracked open an eye and looked across to the pink flowers on the wall. He groaned and closed his eyes. Thinking was more painful in the morning than it had been the night before, because now his head was clear and he didn't have adrenaline to keep him going. He was frightened by what he had done and the path he was now left to follow. Dumbledore was dead and he was staying at Potter's neighbor's house in the hopes that Potter would forgive and protect him. Or at least, that was all he could bear to allow himself to want of Harry Potter; he was sure anything would be rejected flat out.

He crept to the door and opened it enough to hear the voices downstairs.

A female was sobbing -- he guessed it was Mrs. Figg. "But what will we do?" she was saying. "We don't have a chance without Dumbledore!"

Draco's insides twisted and he heard a gruff male voice answer, "We have Harry. We have to believe in him."

If anything, Mrs. Figg sobbed harder. "But he's just a boy!"

"He's not a boy anymore. A person doesn't go through what he has and stay a child. He's our only chance, Arabella."

The kitchen was silent for a while before Mrs. Figg asked so softly that Draco had to strain to hear, "And the Malfoy boy, what are we going to do with him?"

Draco heard the man sigh. "We don't know. Snape's gone back to Voldemort, and no one's really sure what side he's on, but Dumbledore made us all promise to look after Draco."

The man's voice was familiar, but Draco couldn't place it.

"But the paper said he let the Death Eaters in!"

"I know," came the sharp answer, "but this was Dumbledore's last wish. He wanted us to look after Harry and Draco. Besides, Voldemort will know by now that the boy has fled. He'll be killed if he tries to go back."

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and walked purposely down the hall. As he stood at the top of the stairs, Mrs. Figg came to greet him, looking up at him with red eyes.

"Excuse me, which room is the bathroom?" He asked politely, his face flushed.

"The door on the right, just there." Her face was tear-streaked, and her voice wavered slightly as she pointed it out to him. Draco turned away from her and went into the bathroom. He used the toilet and thought of showering, not only because his hair was filthy, but because it would secure him another fifteen minutes alone.

As the hot water of the shower beat against his skin, he looked down at the black drawing on his forearm. He would always be a Death Eater; he had taken that oath. Some part of him would always belong to the Dark Lord. He didn't want to belong to anyone. He wanted to be a Malfoy, his own man.

In an act of desperation, he took the soap from the dish and scrubbed and scrubbed but the Dark Mark would not budge. Instead, it turned an unsightly red and looked even worse than before. Draco did not stop scrubbing; he wanted to keep going until his skin came off. Anything -- anything! -- was better than being marked. The let the soap fall to the ground and he used his fingernails to claw at the skin. He was not the Dark Lord's servant anymore and any reminder of the mistake he had made -- of the mistake his father and Snape had made as well -- had to be destroyed.

His skin became too inflamed for him to continue. Blood was running down his arm and he watched its progress down the drain. His head hit a tile on the shower wall and he sobbed, not just because of the mark on his arm, but because he had lost everything in one go. He had lost his family and his friends and the control he had over his emotions.

His life was now at the disposal of the last person who would ever trust him or like him. He hated his mark because Harry hated him because of it. He hated himself because he knew Harry hated him, too, and every day he felt the yearning for the other boy grow into a monster he could not control.

It took him a while to pick himself up off the hard shower floor. When he could no longer ignore the pains in his stomach, he emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, and dashed toward his bedroom. He dressed carefully and remembered to heal the cuts on his arm so that they would not ruin his white shirt. When he was ready, he took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. He listened, but could hear no one. Carefully, he turned the knob and ventured down to the kitchen. Mrs. Figg was at the stove, preparing what smelt like bacon and eggs. Draco's stomach grumbled in approval.

Mrs. Figg nearly threw the frying pan when she realized he was in the doorway.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you, I was just hungry."

Mrs. Figg nodded. "Quite all right! Quite all right. I'll just, uh... finish here, and you can have a seat and... yes, there's a good lad."

Draco took a seat. Instantly, a cat leaped into his lap and he rubbed behind its ears absently.

"That'll be Mr. Tibbles," said Mrs. Figg affectionately as she brought his plate to him. She beckoned to the cat and he leapt off to follow her. Draco dug into his breakfast enthusiastically while he watched Muggle children play in a yard across the street.

Mrs. Figg came back into the kitchen and bustled around for a while before sitting at the table across from Draco. She was watching him anxiously and it was beginning to put him off his food. He smiled at her politely and she smiled weakly back at him, but continued to wring her hands.

"Where did you say Potter lived?" Draco asked, in between mouthfuls.

Her eyes widened. "Harry? Oh, two streets down, on Privet Drive."

"And you've been living here for how long?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Nearly sixteen years."

"On Dumbledore's orders?" He asked cautiously.

At the name, her breath hitched and she seemed to grow in anxiousness. "Yes."

"But you're a witch, right?" Draco still hadn't seen her with a wand.

She shook her head. "I'm a squib."

Draco's eyes widened. "That was very clever of Dumbledore."

She looked severe. "Albus Dumbledore was a brilliant man."

Draco averted his eyes. "I know he was," he said softly.

"And Harry Potter will become a very powerful wizard," she added, more to convince herself than anything else.

"I know that, too," Draco said to himself.

"Now," said Mrs. Figg, growing in confidence, "There's really not much for someone your age to do around here. Are you of age?"

Draco was startled by the question, but nodded anyway, "My birthday was last week."

"You understand that any magic you use is traceable?" She asked.

Draco nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"While you're here, I think it's best if you leave your wand in your room. It'll remove any temptation to use it, do you understand?" She gathered confidence as she spoke. "It's not so much the muggles we have to worry about as it is the Ministry. They'll be wanting you, I reckon."

Draco nodded. He felt his face grow hot. "I could... for your safety, I could just go."

She shot him a sharp look. "Why would you do that? No, no, you're to stay here! Those were Dumbledore's orders and even though..." she sniffed loudly, "even though he's gone, we'll still follow his orders."

Draco pushed his plate away. "Can I go for a walk?" He asked, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the small house.

"No, I'm sorry, dear, but I've been given orders that you're not to leave the house yet."

Draco didn't argue. He cleared the table for Miss. Figg and she bustled around the kitchen for a while, occasionally throwing Draco furtive looks, until he finally asked her if she knew when Potter would be back.

"Next week, I think. They'll be having the funeral at the school and then the children will go home."

Draco nodded, not really surprised the term would not be finishing. It made him feel oddly better to think that if he couldn't finish his sixth year, no one else would be either.

"How many people know I'm here?"

Mrs. Figg looked appraisingly at him. "Snape, of course, Remus Lupin, who came by this morning, a few other trusted members of the Order and myself."

Draco nodded -- he had thought the voice from earlier was familiar. He was a little bothered by Lupin knowing his location, because he knew Lupin ran with Greyback's pack. He didn't know if the werewolf was a spy or not, but it was enough to unsettle him. "Lupin's, uh... Harry's friend, right?" he asked cautiously.

Mrs. Figg smiled approvingly. "Yes, Remus was a friend of Harry's parents. The only one left, you see... not counting Peter Pettigrew."

Draco thought back to Spinner's End and the door Snape always kept locked. "I know where he's at!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

"I'm sorry?" Mrs. Figg looked alarmed by his outburst.

"Sorry, I mean Wormtail--Pettigrew--he's with Snape."

Mrs. Figg raised an eyebrow, "Yes, I believe the Order is aware of where Pettigrew is, but now that Snape has left..."

Draco immediately came to Snape's defense. "But Snape hasn't! He's not a traitor."

It became apparent that although Mrs. Figg was willing to shelter him, she was not willing to trust his word. "This is not something we should be talking about, dear," she said quickly. "I believe Nymphadora will be by later, it's her job to make sure all the wards are functioning before Harry arrives. You can talk to her, how does that sound?"

He didn't know this Nymphadora person and he doubted she would be willing to listen to a word he had to say, but he nodded anyway.

Draco ended up spending the entire day in the sitting room trying to figure out how to work the box with the glass front. Mrs. Figg had turned it on with a Re-moat. A portrait had appeared in the glass, and then a different portrait had replaced it. And then the people in the portraits had all disappeared and the whole thing had changed! A man appeared to talk about a toilet cleaning solution. Draco had tried one of the buttons on the Re-moat and the picture had changed once more. As he found, the more he hit the buttons, the more the picture changed. Finally, he was drawn to a scene with a husband who had just found his wife with another man. The couple fought over custody of their children, before ultimately realizing that they still loved one another. Draco felt moved at the end when the couple reunited.

Quickly, he used the Re-moat to find something else.

When Nymphadora arrived, the Tell-a-vision had been turned off, and Draco was persuaded to go with Mrs. Figg out to the garden.

When she ushered him back to the house, Draco found himself sitting at the table across from a pink haired witch in blue denims and a bright orange T-shirt.

"Wotcha!" she said in greeting.

Draco nodded to her, curious about her, but wary.

She continued to smile brightly at him. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

Draco shook his head, looking to where Mrs. Figg was preparing tea.

"I'm Nymphadora Tonks, but everyone calls me Tonks. My mother is Andromeda Black Tonks."

Draco's eyebrows rose. "You're a Black?"

She smiled. "We met once before, you were eight or nine and your mother stopped by to, well..." she ran a hand through her hair and shook her head.

Draco knew of his mother and her sister's tumultuous relationship and quickly asked, "You were at Hogwarts this year, weren't you?"

"Yep! I was part of the team of Aurors assigned to the school."

"And you're a member of the Order of the Phoenix?"

She nodded. "But that's top secret, so mum's the word."

Draco smiled weakly as Mrs. Figg brought over tea. Nymphadora waited for Draco to take a sip before she began to drink her own. Mrs. Figg watched them both anxiously before leaving the room to go feed her new kitten.

"How did you get here, Draco?" Tonks asked, softly.

Before he had time to process the question, Draco found himself answering, "Snape gave me a Portkey." Belatedly, he realized he'd been slipped Veritaserum.

"Just relax," Tonks whispered, as Draco began to panic. "You shouldn't have anything to worry about. Now, what happened yesterday on the tower?"

His eyes were wide and he fought the potion furiously. He didn't care so much that Tonks would know about his attempts on Dumbledore's life. He imagined the entire Wizarding World knew by now. What worried him was that if Tonks was to start asking him questions about Harry, he might be forced to admit things that, until the day before, he had thought he'd be able to keep secret forever.

In the end the potion won, and Draco was forced to submit to her questioning. "Madam Rosmerta saw Dumbledore leaving," he answered in a monotonous drawl. "I let the Death Eaters into the school and fired the Dark Mark into the sky above the school. Dumbledore came back. I found him on the Astronomy tower; he was very weak. I disarmed him and he promised to protect me. Alecto, Amycus and Greyback joined me. They wanted me to kill Dumbledore. I didn't do it and then Snape came up to the tower. Snape killed Dumbledore because I wouldn't."

Steeling herself, Tonks asked, "And after?"

"We ran. Potter chased us, but we ran. The rest of the Death Eaters followed us. We Apparated from the Forbidden Forest."

"Where did you go?"

"We went to Spinner's End, just Snape and I."

"And what happened?"

His eyes pleaded with her. He wanted the questioning to stop. He did not want to continue. "Snape said I had a choice. He said I couldn't save my mother anymore. He told me he knew I was part-veela and I had to go to my soul mate. He gave me the Portkey and I came here."

Draco waited for her to ask who his soul mate was, but she never did. She was watching him carefully.

"Why didn't you kill Dumbledore?" She asked, her eyes boring into his.

Draco was alarmed, as he automatically answered, "I didn't want to kill him. He'd never done anything to me. He didn't deserve to die."

Tonks looked away, and cleared her throat. "I found Harry on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of the year. You had broken his nose. Why?"

Draco was as thoughtful as the truth serum allowed him to be and it took him a moment to choose his words. "Potter followed Zabini into our compartment; he was trying to see if I'd admit to being a Death Eater. He knew and I hated him for it."

"Do you hate Harry Potter?"

Draco averted his eyes. "No."

"Would you hurt him, if you could, in any way, either emotional or physically?"

Draco looked away from the neon-haired witch. "No, I could never hurt him," he whispered. As he said this, he felt as though he was finally admitting it to himself. He could never hurt Harry -- _Harry_, not Potter, not anymore -- because Harry was all he had, and all he'd ever have. Draco's heart raced and he looked up at Tonks, once again pleading with her to stop.

"Would you let someone else hurt him?"

Draco's heart was in his throat, and he honestly had no idea how it got there, "No, of course not! I love him!" The last sentence was out before he could think it through and it was as much a surprise to him as it was to Tonks. She sat rigid in her chair, stunned by his bold declaration.

Tonks kept silent for a long time after his confession. Draco could see she did not know what to make of him. She tugged at her hair and it changed from pink to blue and back again.

"Are you working with Severus Snape?" She asked, though he thought she knew the answer and only wanted confirmation.

"No," said Draco.

Tonk's mouth opened slightly in surprise. "Do you know what he's up to?"

"He went back to the Dark Lord." In an attempt to help Snape, he added, "but he's loyal to Dumbledore."

"He killed Dumbledore!" Tonks said angrily. The anger didn't suit her, in Draco's opinion, especially not with blue hair.

He continued to defend Snape because Snape had always defended him. "Snape had to do it, he made a vow. Dumbledore wanted him to do it."

"Why would Dumbledore want to die?"

"Because he was already dying!"

A cup shattered in the next room and Tonks took a deep breath, "Whose side are you on?"

"Harry's," Draco answered quickly.

Silence followed his answer.

She tried a new tactic with her questioning. "Is Snape working for Voldemort?"

"No. He's working against him." He was less nervous now, and more irritated that she was questioning Snape's loyalty. Hadn't Snape proved his loyalty by saving him, as Dumbledore's final request had been?

"How do you know?" She asked angrily.

"He told me before he gave me the Portkey. He's not loyal to the Dark Lord." His voice was rising and he wanted desperately for her to believe that Snape was still on their side.

She took a deep breath, watching him with shrewd eyes. "Where is Voldemort?"

"I don't know."

"Where were you marked?"

He shot her an incredulous look. "My left forearm."

Tonks glared at him, as if he was being slow on purpose. "I mean the location. Where were you when you were marked?"

"I don't know. I was Apparated there by Aunt Bellatrix, we arrived in a room with the Dark Lord, and I never saw anything but the room. I never Apparated there on my own either."

"Can you give me the location of any Death Eater besides yourself and Snape?" She asked, her anger diminishing.

Earlier in the day, he had tried to tell Mrs. Figg where Wormtail was hiding, but as he sat across from an actual Auror he realized that he might just be risking Snape's freedom as well. She had not seemed convinced of Snape's loyalty. Instead, he gave her a general answer that was honest. "Most of them are with Voldemort, I believe. The ones on the run from the law, anyway."

"Do you know of any Death Eaters that have recently been recruited?"

Draco shook his head, "He's not really recruiting right now. He's just after Harry."

"Would you die to protect Harry?" She asked quietly.

Draco gave her a look of deepest loathing. "I would die if I didn't," he said. And that was the key.

"There are ways around the veela magic. You could give up Harry and still live."

"It would be a half-existence, a dark and lonely life," Draco answered, his eyes empty. He had thought of this, of course. He had even found the perfect spell, but even it had an expiration date, and every spell and every potion ultimately led to the same end -- a lonely and depressing end. Veelas were not meant to live alone. To choose that path was suicidal. He knew that, having fled Voldemort, he risked losing his life, and was gambling with the chance that Harry might not want him. If either of these possibilities came to pass, however, it would still lead to a more pleasant end than an entire lifetime of sadness and living alone. No one would ever be able to fill the void his soul mate left.

"But you could possibly save yourself and your mother," Tonks suggested, sipping her tea slowly.

"I would never be happy," Draco whispered, hating himself instantly for knowing he would choose Harry over his own mother.

Tonks gave him another appraising look before declaring, "I'm done, no more questions. Draco Malfoy, you are cleared to live in Little Whinging and communicate with Harry Potter."

It wasn't the wards she had come to test, after all. Draco tried to smile at her, and to suppress his rage at not being trusted. He knew he wasn't to be trusted. He wouldn't have trusted himself either.

"A few members of the Order are taking shifts watching Harry this summer. I'm part of the team, so we'll be seeing each other." She got up and walked out; Draco heard her say good-bye to Mrs. Figg.

He spent the rest of the evening in his room, in his bed, trying not to think about what had changed between himself and Harry and when it had happened. At the beginning of the year, he had been unable to do more than break Harry's nose. Then, when the other boy had seen him crying in the bathroom, Draco had thought he could perform an Unforgivable on him, but afterwards, after Harry had sliced him open, he had felt guilty for trying.

And he couldn't kill Dumbledore because he knew the old man was the only person who could help Harry.

He had been of age an entire week, and the need to be near Harry was growing fast. He knew what would happen if Harry did not forgive him, or even if he never saw Harry again.

Without Harry, a depression deeper than the one he could already feel would set in and would not dissipate until Harry was able to return his affections. _To be able to find your soul mate is a blessing,_ he had read once,_ if you waste it, it is only fair to face the consequences. A veela who knows who their mate is and does not go directly to that person, will feel their magical powers decline and will drop into a deep depression, ultimately feeling that his or her only option is suicide._

Draco turned onto his stomach on the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Every sign was pointing toward his demise. Being bound to Harry Potter meant sharing his rather high mortality risk, and being without him meant suicide. At least with Harry, there was a fifty-fifty chance of survival.

In the end, Draco became too tired to think, so he curled into a ball and drifted into an uneasy sleep.


	3. Harry's Big Surprise

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Three  
**

Harry's Big Surprise

---

After Tonk's visit, there were no visitors for the occupants of 7 Wisteria Walk in the following week. Draco, Mrs. Figg and her cats got along well enough. Draco spent most of his time on the couch in the sitting room with Mr. Tibbles, watching the Tell-a-vision. By the end of the week, he was convinced East Enders was better than any Wizarding play he had ever seen.

Mrs. Figg went for walks frequently. She never went very far, and Draco never joined her. Both of them felt that Draco was better off staying indoors. There was no telling who was lurking about and it was better not to risk it. On the last day before Harry's return, Draco retired to his room right after dinner. He had barely touched his plate and he felt like all the bones in his body had turned to lead. He knew it was anxiety and fear that put him off his dinner, but it was still unsettling to think Harry Potter could cause such a reaction from him.

The next day, Mrs. Figg received word that Harry would not be returning until the following afternoon. Draco had not left his bed since the day before, forcing her to bring his meals upstairs to him. Even then, he let Mr. Tibbles have anything on the plate that he would eat. The anxiety and fear of the day before had morphed into restlessness and depression. He was entirely convinced that Harry would reject him flat out and he would be left to die under a pink and green floral bedspread. Just the thought of Harry made his stomach turn most unpleasantly.

Mrs. Figg watched his door anxiously and hoped that Harry's return would brighten Draco's mood. Although she had feared the worst when she had found out exactly who would be staying with her, in the week that passed she had grown fond of Draco. He was quiet and introverted and she found him hard to get to know, but she thought him perfectly capable of being Harry's soul mate -- if, in fact, he really was. And she had to say that if Draco was lying, then he was a very fine actor.

The next day, at around four, Tonks arrived to take the first shift. Two hours later, she sent word that Harry had arrived safe and sound. Draco felt surprisingly tense knowing Harry was only two blocks away. He had thoroughly convinced himself that Harry Potter would have nothing to do with him, and would probably laugh at him and throw him out on the street. Mrs. Figg, though she would feel sorry for him, would undoubtedly lock him out of the house and send him on his merry way.

Draco didn't sleep at all that night.

Mrs. Figg waited until ten the next morning before knocking on Draco's door. The young man had not come down for breakfast, and she hadn't heard a single noise in the room since the night before.

"Draco, dear," she called softly through the door. "I made pancakes and bacon. Please come out." She waited a full minute before trying the door. To her surprise, it was unlocked.

Draco lay on top of the blankets on the bed. His eyes were red and his cheeks were lined with tears. He was wearing the same clothes he'd been in the day before and his hair was in complete disarray. She had never before seen the proud young Malfoy look so frazzled.

"Now, really!" She exclaimed, "Is this really worth getting all worked up over? Do you really think Harry's going to... what? Reject you, send you away? Come now!"

"You don't understand," cried Draco, "Harry's never liked me, and... and now, I c-can't live without him!"

"And what do you solve by sitting in your room moping?"

Draco shrugged. "It's not worth trying. I know he'll never... I killed Dumbledore!"

Mrs. Figg visibly flinched, but continued to console the boy. "No one believes that, dear. It was Snape, we all know that."

"But it was my fault! I let them in."

Mrs. Figg sat beside his sobbing form. She reached out to pat his shoulder but thought better of it. "Harry's a decent young man, Draco, he'll see you for what you are, you've just got to give him the chance. He's not the type to hold grudges."

Draco snorted, "You don't know him very well, then."

"I'll have you know I have watched the boy grow up," grumbled Mrs. Figg, sounding affronted, "and I know him very well, thank you. He would come and stay with me whenever the Dursleys went away. He's a fair-minded boy, and he's out to win a war. You don't win wars by creating more enemies."

Draco looked at her intently. "You really think he'll forgive me?" Draco did not dare hope.

"'Course I do!" Mrs. Figg said firmly. "It's his only chance."

Draco blinked, taken back. "What do you mean?" he stared at her.

Mrs. Figg fidgeted under his piercing gaze. "Well, not many could turn down everlasting love."

Draco averted his eyes. "But he doesn't know about that."

Mrs. Figg stood. "And he never will if you hide up here." With one last lingering sad look, she walked out of the room.

Four hours later found Draco closing the front door behind him and starting out on his first walk outside of 7 Wisteria Walk. Mrs. Figg had been positive that Harry regularly took walks around the neighborhood when he was with the Dursleys. She believed Draco would meet Harry without having to go knocking on the Dursleys' front door.

Draco walked to the neighborhood play park. Once arrived, he looked skeptically at the rubber slabs suspended from a large metal contraption by chains. A small girl with a blond ponytail was sitting merrily on one of the rubber slabs, swinging to and fro and looking flushed from the exertion. Draco chose, instead, a nice park bench under a low hanging tree.

He watched as children played in the park while their parents looked on adoringly. The scene reminded him strongly of his mother and his own happy childhood. He missed his mother and thought of her incessantly, but he knew, like Snape had told him, that there was nothing he could do for her. She was a power witch in her own right and he had to hope she would make it through. After all, she was the cleverest witch he had ever known.

Something caught his eye and Draco turned in time to see Harry Potter walking straight towards him. The tree covered him well and he doubted the other boy could see him. His spot, however, gave him an easy view of the chosen one. He looked moody and hardly seemed to notice his surroundings as he took a seat on the rubber slab that the girl with the ponytail had abandoned. He wrapped a thin hand around the chains and swung slowly. He mesmerized Draco. And his heart lurched every time he caught sight of his soul mate's pained expression.

Time passed slowly as Draco watched Harry swinging morosely. When the last child had left the playground, Draco stood and left his hiding spot. Harry tensed the moment he saw him.

"You!" He snarled, leaping to his feet.

Draco quickly pulled out his wand and threw it towards Harry. "I'm not here to fight you."

Harry ignored his declaration, though he did lower himself carefully to pick up the wand and keep his own trained on Draco. "If you think... if Snape has told you... I'm not the fool Dumbledore was. I'll kill you."

Draco felt his heart break, and it was like he'd shattered into a million pieces.

"Tell me why you're here," Harry demanded.

Draco hated himself for the tears that welled in his eyes as he said, "I never returned to the Dark Lord."

Harry sneered at him. "Why would you think I'd care?"

"I'm not a Death Eater," Draco declared defiantly, taking a step closer to Harry.

Harry took a large step backwards. "Do you have a mark on your arm?" A flick of Harry's wand, and the sleeve of Draco's Muggle shirt lifted to reveal the black tattoo on his left arm. "Ha!" Harry exclaimed in triumph.

Draco pulled down his sleeve.

"The Dark Lord requires a life-time of service, even I know that," Harry spat at him. "You'll always be a Death Eater."

"No!" Draco said fiercely, "I won't! I did what I had to do to save my parents but I am not a Death Eater."

Harry scoffed at him. "Yeah right, Malfoy. You're a coward, and if you think I believe for one minute that you've changed your ways, you're sorely mistaken. A leopard can't change its spots."

"Dumbled--"

"Dumbledore's dead because of you!" Harry shouted, coming closer to Draco. "I know why you're here, you want the protection Dumbledore offered you. But you're wrong if you think I'm soft enough to think _you_, of all people, have changed."

"Harry!" Both boys turned to see Nymphadora Tonks running towards them. "Stop!" She halted beside Draco, panting and out of breath. "Don't hurt him!"

"Why shouldn't I?"

Tonks looked at him sternly. "Because he's not trying to hurt you, is he?" Her tone was reminiscent of their dear aunt Bellatrix in its harshness.

Harry glared at her, but his arm faltered and his wand lowered. Draco's heart fluttered with hope. Tonks had questioned him under Veritaserum, and she knew he was sincere. She knew the truth.

"He's safe, Harry. Been staying with Arabella since he left Hogwarts, and I've questioned him," she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth to argue. "I used Veritaserum. He's fine, Harry."

Harry's anger seemed to deflate quickly. "Maybe he had an antidote," he said half-heartedly.

Tonks laughed. "Harry, don't be ridiculous. It was Dumbledore's last request that the Order watch Draco here, and we intend to carry out his wishes."

At this, Harry's shoulders slumped and he looked completely defeated. "Dumbledore's last request?"

Tonks nodded and reached out to rub his shoulder, but Harry turned away from her. "He's staying with Mrs. Figg, then?"

"For now," said she. "But he won't be able to stay there after you come of age."

Harry shrugged. "I'm sure the Order will find a place for him." With that, he turned and walked out of the park, looking exhausted.

Once he was gone, Draco watched him walk away thoughtfully. "He's going to make it impossible to tell him," he lamented.

"Someone else will have to tell him," Tonks said softly.

"I suppose. Will you do it?" Draco asked, brightening up. He liked Tonks. She was family.

She looked uncomfortable. "Don't think I'm the right person. I'll let Remus do it."

Draco bit his tongue. Mrs. Figg had let him in on the relationship between the young woman and the werewolf. When Draco looked up at Tonks, she was watching him carefully.

"He'll have to do it soon. You look awful, Malfoy."

He smiled weakly. "Thanks."

She squeezed his shoulder and led him out of the park.

Draco patted his pocket. "Potter has my wand."

Tonks' eyebrows furrowed and she sighed. "I'll go catch up with Harry."

Draco waited on the street corner as Tonks took off in a sprint after Harry. He was at the other end of the street and Draco watched as Tonks reached him and spoke to him briefly. Harry reached into his pocket and handed her Draco's wand.

---

"Why is he really here?" asked Harry, eyeing Draco from a distance.

"Is it really so hard to believe that he's on your side?" she asked him, taking the wand into her hand.

"Yes," said Harry sharply. "He's a Malfoy. And he's never done anything to suggest he wasn't a Dark Arts supporter."

Tonks sighed. "The thing is, Harry, we can't win the way we've been going. We have to be better than the other side. Do you think Voldemort would have welcomed Draco back into his circle without punishing him?"

"But he'd deserve it," Harry said stubbornly.

"Maybe, but Harry, he's just seventeen. Like you. He's made some bad choices, but he's got his whole life to make up for it. We have to be willing to give people a choice. If we can't give them a choice, we can't say we're any better than they are. Now, I know you don't like Malfoy. I'm not asking you to like him. But every Death Eater that turns against You-Know-Who is one less person we have to worry about. One less person that dies."

Harry nodded once and turned away from her. "I just don't want to make the mistake Dumbledore made."

Tonks smiled sadly at him, "Dumbledore may have been wrong to believe the best in Snape. But you have to remember that he believed the best in all of us and any one of us could have betrayed him."

"It's just the right thing to do," Harry said softly, "I know. I just... need some time."

Tonks rubbed his shoulder and turned away from him, "See ya, Harry."

"Bye, Tonks."

---

Draco was watching a Muggle fixing his automobile in the drive of 3 Magnolia Crescent when Tonks rejoined him. She handed him his wand and he quickly pocketed it. As they walked silently towards Wisteria Walk, Draco kept his eyes downcast. He hated himself more than he had all week. He didn't see any more chance of having Harry accepting him in the near future than in the far distant future.

"You know he knows, don't you?" Tonks asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

"Harry... he knows. He doesn't know he knows, but he knows. He wouldn't have been able to curse you. The magic just doesn't work like that."

Draco looked imploringly at her. "What do you mean?"

"It's this veela mess. It's just hard for him because he wants to hate you but he can't. And now that you're both becoming adults, you'll need... things...each other. It'll work out." The certainty in her voice made Draco hope that she was right.

"You think so?" asked Draco.

"Course!" Tonks said happily as they reached Mrs. Figg's front lawn. "Well, gotta go back. See ya, Draco!"

Draco waved to her and watched as she Disapparated from the front lawn. Shaking his head, Draco walked into the house. Inside, Mrs. Figg was entertaining company. The graying Professor Lupin was enjoying a cup of tea and he smiled brightly at Draco when he entered.

"Draco," Mrs. Figg said brightly, "would you like some dinner?"

Draco looked at Lupin and then at Mrs. Figg. "I think I'll go up to bed, Mrs. Figg. I'm not feeling too well."

She pursed her lips. "I can bring you some sandwiches later if you'd like."

Draco nodded, "Thanks." He made his way up the stairs.

"He seems a bit pale, Arabella," he heard Lupin saying as he walked up the stairs.

Draco frowned to himself and began undressing for the night. He supposed his first meeting with Harry had gone better than he'd been dreading, but it was still a far cry from acceptance. He lay on his bed for what must have been hours, running over every detail of their meeting in his head.

Harry had such beautiful eyes. Draco had never realized how bright they were. He dreamt of those eyes as he fell into an uneasy sleep.


	4. Veela, Wizards and Soulmates

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Four  
**

Veela, Wizards and Soulmates

---

The next day, Draco brought the book on veelas with him to the park. He had gotten through the entire history of veela-wizard marriages before Harry had shown up. This time, Harry spotted him and walked over to him. Draco was surprised when Harry took the seat next to him.

Harry looked over at Draco's book and blushed. Draco wondered if the werewolf had already paid his visit.

"Is it true?" Harry asked simply.

"What?" Draco croaked, trying to keep his hands from shaking.

"You're veela."

Draco didn't look at Harry as he nodded. Harry slumped against the bench and his knee brushed Draco's, causing a shock of electricity to run through his body. Harry must have felt it too, for he quickly moved it away. After a minute, Draco heard the other boy groan. "It had to be you, Malfoy. It just couldn't be anyone else."

Draco's pride forced him to look at Harry. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry laughed. "Nothing. It means nothing. I just... you've always been this annoying git, you know?"

Draco raised an aristocratic eyebrow. "You know, you're not my top pick either," which was a total lie because no one had ever gotten to Draco Malfoy like Harry did. No one made his pulse quicken and his palms sweat quite like Harry.

Harry laughed. "I didn't think I was."

They sat in what could almost be called companionable silence for a while before Harry sighed and asked, "Who else knows?"

"Dumbledore knew, though I don't know how. And he told Snape."

"You never told anyone?" Harry asked, and Draco thought he sounded surprised.

"Of course not! Why would I bloody tell anyone? I might as well sign my own death warrant!"

"But you knew?" Harry asked calmly.

Draco sighed. "I knew."

"For how long?" Harry asked, picking a fallen leaf of the ground and shredding it with his fingers.

Before he could stop himself, "Years."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You should have been nicer to me, if you knew."

Draco shrugged. "I never believed it... I thought I was always watching you because I hated you. I knew but I never realized it."

Harry groaned and ran his hands down his face, "I followed you around all year long because I was convinced you had become a Death Eater, and I was right. But that night... when you... I hated you so much for proving me right. And then you couldn't kill him, and I think..." but Harry stopped, and Draco never found out what it was he thought.

After tolerating the silence for a few minutes, Draco said, "You'll be of age soon."

Harry stared at him. "So? Aren't you already?"

"Yes," Draco said softly, "but when we're both of age, it'll be worse."

"What will?"

"The magic."

This mystified Harry. "The magic will be worse?"

"My magic," Draco clarified, "the veela magic--" _the bond_, he thought furiously, unwilling to voice the words out loud in fear that hearing them would repulse the other boy and scare him away.

"What'll happen?" Harry asked, tensing in his seat.

Draco shuddered. "I won't be myself anymore."

Harry didn't ask him to clarify, so Draco didn't bother.

"How do you stop it?" asked Harry minutes later.

Draco stood and brushed invisible dirt from his Muggle jeans, "I can't. Only you can do that." His voice was solemn when he looked at Harry. The dark haired boy met his eyes, searching them for a sign, maybe an answer as to what to do. Draco could see that Harry was still just as wary of him. Twenty-four hours changed nothing. However, Harry was too much like Dumbledore to let Draco suffer.

"See you around, Potter," said Draco as he walked away. He left the book on the bench beside Harry. He hoped the dark haired boy would at least remember to take it with him.

---

Three days passed before the two boys met again at the play park. Draco had barely eaten in the last week, being unable to keep anything down. Sleep had also eluded him. The only things that seemed to be unable to stop were his thoughts. He thought of Harry day and night. He spent all day convincing himself Harry would love him in time, only to spend the night thinking Harry could never think of him as anything but the enemy. When they finally met, Harry had the veela book tucked under his arm. He took his seat beside Draco on the bench and handed him the book.

The dark haired boy seemed unable to take his eyes off of Draco. "You really look awful, Malfoy. Have you been eating?"

Draco shrugged; he was too tired to lie. Besides, sitting next to Harry was intoxicating.

Harry cleared his throat loudly and said, firmly, "Draco, I don't want you to skip a meal again."

It took a few minutes, but Draco felt the tears on his cheeks and could taste them on his lips. Harry cared that he wasn't eating. Harry cared about him at least enough to want him alive. A part of Draco knew that this was Harry's personality--he would want no one to suffer because of him and if he thought Draco was suffering, even indirectly, because of his actions, he would help as much as he could. However, the veela in Draco saw this as a sign and it made him feel all the hope he had been suppressing while waiting for the day when Harry saw him as more than an enemy.

Harry caught his wet eyes and his voice softened, "Don't cry. I'm sorry."

Draco laughed through his tears. "I wish I could hate you."

Harry smiled ruefully. "Too late for that now, isn't it? Look, uh, the book... it said something about needing contact. I asked Lupin and he thought it'd be all right if I spent a couple nights a week at Mrs. Figg's."

"Why would you do that for me?" Draco asked, his face turned away from Harry, his tears drying on his face and his stomach in knots. Of course, he wanted Harry more than he could ever dare express, but he never thought it would be easy, not this easy anyway. The veela was hopeful, but the man in Draco was frightened and helpless.

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "I'm a Gryffindor, Draco. And..." he sobered and stared into the distant trees, "this is what Dumbledore thought I ought to do. And I really don't know what do anymore."

Draco nodded. Harry's reasons hurt him even as he knew he should have been expecting them. Hadn't Snape said that Harry would take him in for the same reason Dumbledore worked to save him?--because that's just what Gryffindors do. After a few minutes of reasoning, he decided that this was still more than he had believed possible less than a day ago; not for the first time, he found himself wondering exactly what Lupin had said to convince Harry to give him a chance.

"Do you want me there tonight?"

Harry's question snapped Draco out of his thoughts and he shrugged; he wanted to appear cool, unbothered by Harry's choice. The truth was, he knew he needed it, craved it, wanted it more than anyone should ever want anything.

Harry sighed. "I won't go if you're going to act like this."

"Fine," Draco said gruffly, "don't come, then. I DON'T CARE!" He was crying again and he wiped furiously at his eyes, wishing he could leave. It was surprisingly easy to revert to his old self in his desperation. He refused to look at Harry because he knew the mere sight of the other would cause all his anger to dissipate and he would revert to the submissive veela he had become. But then, Harry stood and Draco could not stop himself. He grabbed Harry's wrist and stopped him leaving.

"Please," he said softly. He motioned to the bench and Harry sat down again. The bespectacled boy watched him cautiously.

"Is it painful?" He asked, allowing Draco to hold on to his wrist.

Draco tried to tell himself he was imagining the worry in Harry's voice. "A little."

Although Draco did not want the evening to end, the moon had risen, and he did not want to sleep out in the park. Harry had promised to stay with him and when he stood, Harry was immediately at his side. Neither spoke as they walked towards Wisteria Walk. When they arrived at number seven, Harry followed him in without a word and when Mrs. Figg, only a little surprised to see Harry, offered Draco dinner, Harry accepted on his behalf. Draco ate slowly, his body unaccustomed to complete meals.

When he finished, Harry followed him up to his room silently. Draco went about his nightly routine with only a slight tremor in his hands as he brushed his teeth and pulled on his pajamas. He could feel the other boy's eyes piercing his skin. He offered Harry his best pair of pajamas and Harry put them on silently. Mrs. Figg dropped off extra blankets and pillows and Harry arranged them on the floor beside the bed.

"You should take the bed," Draco announced as he surveyed the pile of blankets on the floor. "You're my guest."

Harry shook his head, not meeting Draco's eyes as he said, "You need the sleep more than I do."

Draco didn't argue after that point. He pulled back the blankets on the bed and laid down. Once the lights were off, he slid over to the other side of the bed, closer to where Harry had made his bed on the floor. He stayed up for as long as he could just to listen to the rhythmic sound of Harry's breathing. He looked over the side of the bed and could only make out the shadow of the dark-haired boy's face. He watched him until he could no longer stand being awake. As he started to fall asleep, he felt safer and happier than he could ever remember being.

A full night's sleep later, Draco awoke to the feeling of wet pajama bottoms and realized he was still sporting a morning erection. He groaned and looked over the side of the bed. Harry's emerald eyes were wide open and watching him. When he saw Draco, he blushed furiously and looked away. Draco could only imagine what he had done in his sleep.

Steeling his resolve, "I'm sure you've had a wet dream before, Potter," he shot at the other boy, as he crawled out of bed and quickly exited.

He could have sworn he heard Harry mutter, "Never had one about myself before," as he shut the door.

When Draco came back from the shower -- and taking care of business -- Harry had carefully folded all the blankets and stacked them in a corner. He had also scourgified and made Draco's bed. Draco raised an eyebrow at this.

"I used your wand," Harry said, throwing it at Draco, who deftly caught it. Draco thought he understood; he hated being in a Muggle neighborhood for a week without doing magic. It was different in the magical world; the Ministry was unable to track underage magic as effectively in a Magical household.

Draco threw his dirty clothes in the hamper and turned to find Harry sitting on the bed watching him.

A full night's rest and a decent meal the night before had nearly returned Draco to normal, and he quickly snapped at Harry, "See something you like?"

Harry blushed and turned away. Draco didn't dare let himself think about what it all meant. They went downstairs to greet a very frazzled Mrs. Figg and a somber looking Remus Lupin.

He didn't so much as blink at Harry. "Good morning Harry, Mr. Malfoy."

"Morning, Remus," Harry said happily and took a seat beside him.

Draco chose the chair furthest from him and looked imploringly between the werewolf and Mrs. Figg. "Has something happened?"

Mrs. Figg set an omelet and a plate of bacon in front of him; her hands shook slightly.

Lupin took a deep breath and spoke directly to Harry. "Peter Pettigrew was found bound to the Hogwarts' gates this morning and Percy Weasley has gone missing."

Harry's hand froze, with his fork midway towards his mouth. Draco, feeling more hungry than sympathetic to the Wormtails and Percy Weasleys of the world, continued eating.

"Do the Weasleys know?" Harry asked, setting his fork down.

Lupin nodded. "They've decided to postpone Bill and Fleur's wedding. You know better than I do what's been going on with Percy, but the Weasleys have all joined the effort to find him. However, the Order does not believe he was taken against his will."

Harry stabbed viciously at his omelet with his fork. "You think he'd joined Voldemort?"

No one noticed Mrs. Figg's or Draco's flinch.

Lupin sighed. "It's too hard to tell, Harry. We know Voldemort's been trying to penetrate the Ministry. It's not like before, he's not looking for anything in particular, just access to the Minister, and power."

"You don't think Scrimgeour has joined him, do you?" Harry asked.

Lupin shook his head. "Not Scrimgeour. He spent too many years fighting the Dark Arts to suddenly join him. But there are many people within the Ministry that are at risk. There's no telling who could be under the Imperius Curse or who could be a Death Eater Polyjuiced as a Ministry employee... security has never been air-tight at the Ministry."

"Shouldn't that be a priority?" Draco asked, drawing attention to himself for the first time. Harry seemed to have forgotten he was in the room at all and looked alarmed when he realized his slip.

"It should, but the Ministry has been crumbling ever since Voldemort returned. It has become very ineffectual. Many believe it's only a matter of time before the government falls completely."

Harry turned away from Draco, whom he had been staring at. "Would that be so bad?"

Lupin frowned. "I think it would. The Ministry is the uniting force in the Wizarding world. It's essential to protecting the public--both Muggle and Wizarding. Without strong leadership, I think winning the war will be a lot harder, Harry. I know you don't agree with what the Ministry has done in the past, but you know it serves a purpose."

Harry nodded skeptically. "I suppose, but I don't see them doing much to help stop Voldemort."

"They're helping some," Lupin said vaguely.

"Is the Order of the Phoenix doing anything to end some of the factions within the Ministry?" Draco asked, thoughtfully.

Lupin smiled at him, and Draco nearly expected the ex-professor to award ten points to Slytherin. "We are. Many in the order work at the Ministry, and they're all doing the best they can."

Harry looked between them before saying, exasperatedly, "But what about Voldemort?"

Draco thought Lupin looked suddenly uncomfortable. "Well, we're trying to track as many known sympathizers as we can, but without..." he looked imploringly at Harry, "without Snape, we've been unable to obtain any intelligence."

Harry looked furious but said nothing.

Lupin continued, "Dumbledore had leads but he wasn't exactly open about what they were." Draco noticed that Lupin gave Harry a pointed look and Harry was purposely avoiding his eyes.

"Anyway," said Lupin, "We're doing what we can."

"I should go see Ron and his family," Harry said finally.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea right now, Harry. We're moving them into Headquarters, and..."

"To Headquarters?" Harry asked. "Is that safe now that... I mean," Harry looked pointedly at Draco but continued anyway, "Dumbledore was Secret-Keeper."

"Last summer, after we were sure that the house had passed on to you, Dumbledore appointed a new Secret-Keeper."

"Who?" Harry asked, automatically.

Lupin smiled proudly at him, "You."

"WHAT? But how? I didn't even know!"

Lupin shrugged. "The Fidelius Charm is very old magic, and very complicated, but the Secret-Keeper, in case of death, can appoint a successor without that person knowing it. If they don't, then the secret dies with them, and sometimes, when the successor doesn't know they're the Secret-Keeper, the secret also dies."

Harry and Lupin chatted for a while as Draco finished his breakfast. Finally, Lupin made his excuses and left. Draco fully expected Harry to make his excuses as well, but to his surprise, Harry hung around the house until late in the afternoon.

"I should be getting back to the Dursleys," Harry said finally. They had been watching Top of the Pops on the Tell-a-vision, when he had caught sight of the time.

Draco had to stop himself from either asking Harry to stay or asking when he'd be back. Noticing his hesitant expression, Harry quickly promised to visit the next day.

That night, Draco laid out the blankets and slept down on the floor, surrounded in Harry's scent. Mrs. Figg didn't say a word as she stopped by to bid him goodnight. Draco promised to fully berate himself in the morning for being such a pansy, but, until then, he snuggled against Harry's pillow and drifted off to sleep.


	5. A New Promise

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Five  
**

A New Promise

---

Harry spent every other night on Draco's floor, just as he'd promised. Before they knew it, June was over and they were moving into July, continuing to spend every day together. However, one could not say that Harry and Draco became friends. They hardly spoke, though they were hardly ever apart. This closeness brought about an obvious change in both boys that was noticed not only by Mrs. Figg, but by frequently visiting members of the Order as well.

Draco, having spent many days walking around the neighborhood with Harry, was not as pale as before. Because of Harry's insistence that the blond boy not skip meals, he had regained all the weight he had lost in the past year due to worrying about Voldemort and pining after Harry. What surprised most visitors was the lack of the spite and malice that had been so characteristic of the Malfoy boy in school. Draco hadn't reformed by any stretch of the imagination, but he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Harry no longer sulked around the neighborhood. At times, he still appeared weighed down by his responsibilities, but he looked youthful and happier than he had before. Most had taken notice of how quickly Harry seemed to have had befriended Draco and forgiven him.

Harry, however, did not think that he had forgiven Malfoy, and he certainly had not befriended him. He didn't like Malfoy, and he didn't like Dumbledore very much for having gone through so much trouble for the other boy. He had bought the veela story because it was better than having to accept that Malfoy was, in fact, truly reformed, which he would never believe. And Malfoy himself provided evidence to support the veela story. Malfoy was obviously very depressed when not around Harry, and had started eating again when Harry had prompted him. If it wasn't true, Harry didn't think he could rationalize the pang he felt when Malfoy looked unhappy or hurt.

During the first week of July, Harry stopped by to say he'd be visiting the Weasleys for a few days. Percy Weasley's body had been found, and the Weasleys were planning on burying him on the family estate. Draco was curious about the matter, but Harry refused to give him details. He would not even tell him whether or not Weasley had gone over to the Dark Lord's service. Draco took this to mean that he had, and that the Weasleys did not wish for it to be known. Despite how awful the entire situation truly was, Draco felt like reminding Harry that Percy Weasley was a Gryffindor, challenging Harry's naïve theory that only Slytherins go bad. He managed to restrain himself.

The first day without Harry went smoothly for Draco; he placated himself by thinking that Harry would be back soon and that Harry obviously didn't hate him, because he spent so much time by his side.

The second day was not so good. Draco only managed a piece of toast for breakfast. He made himself at home in front of the Tell-a-vision and lost himself in reruns of American dramas. Many episodes of Dawson's Creek later Draco was pulling out his hair, convinced Harry would never return. He'd obviously gotten tired of him and had decided he'd much rather spend all summer with Ginny Weasley.

The mere thought of the Weasley girl sent Draco into a rage. He vowed to curse her until she was unrecognizable at the first chance he got, if only to keep Harry from ever finding her attractive.

On the third day, Draco did not bother going downstairs. He slept on the floor of the room, in blankets that no longer smelled like Harry.

On the fourth day, there was a persistent knocking at the door that Draco decided to ignore. Pulling the blankets up over his head, he wished that whoever it was would just go away. Unfortunately, the person knocking was very persistent, and before long, the door was opened. Draco stopped breathing as he waited for whoever it was to speak. It couldn't possibly be Mrs. Figg.

"_Malfoy..._" Draco felt his heart plummet. Harry sounded worried and disappointed. However, Draco was not willing to believe Harry had come back at all, so he resolved to keep the covers securely over his head until he was absolutely sure that removing them would not disappoint him.

He heard footsteps moving towards him, and he knew the moment when they stopped just outside the blankets.

Harry knelt beside him but didn't pull the blankets away. Draco heard some shuffling around and before he knew it, a warm body was trying to force its way under his blankets. He put up a feeble fight, still unsure that it was Harry at all.

Harry managed to cover himself fully in the blankets; Draco could feel his hot breath on his neck, so he finally turned to face the other boy. "You don't feel the least bit silly under here, Malfoy?" Harry asked, finding himself face to face with the disheveled blond.

"No," Draco said stubbornly.

Harry sighed and stretched his limbs.

"How was the funeral?" Draco asked finally.

Harry looked at him; Draco couldn't see him, but he felt his gaze. "Fine, I guess. I don't have much experience with them, and I think I'd like to keep it that way."

Draco nodded in agreement.

"Have you been under here since I left?"

"No," Draco said softly, "I made it through the first two days okay." That is, if one counted watching episodes of Dawson's Creek as being okay.

"I'm exhausted, I had to walk here from the Muggle Underground. Do you mind if I sleep here?"

Draco shrugged, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in his stomach.

Harry smiled at him and closed his eyes. Draco tried to relax beside Harry, but couldn't get his mind to shut down. He kept thinking of Ginny Weasley.

"Harry?" Draco purred, his lips inches from Harry's ear.

Harry's eyes shot open. "Yes?"

"Are you still dating Ginny Weasley?"

Harry smiled at Draco. "No, we broke up. Why do you ask?"

Draco glared at him; they both knew full well why he was asking. "Just curious. About you. We never really talk. And I wasn't sure. So I thought I'd ask." His words were jumbled and he felt uncomfortable asking; still, he held his breath as he waited for an answer.

"We broke up before school ended; she's not really someone I think about much anymore."

This disclosure made Draco very happy, so he didn't bother to question it.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"Parkinson?"

"...Is an awful lay."

Harry gasped and Draco laughed.

"I'm just joking, you great buffoon. I probably wouldn't even be able to get it up with that one."

Draco thought maybe Harry had blushed; he hoped so.

Hours later, Draco woke up wrapped around a very warm, very inviting body. He felt at peace with the world, and the feeling was extraordinary. That is, until Harry groaned and opened his eyes.

"Please let me go," he asked Draco politely.

Draco obliged; his arm was stiff from having been underneath Harry the entire morning. Harry sat up, pulling the blankets away from them both. Draco watched as the other boy stood and made his way for the door. Draco only had a moment's panic before he spotted Harry's wand two feet away from the makeshift bed and let out a sigh of relief. He knew Harry would not leave without his wand.

Harry returned a few minutes later and Draco assumed he had gone to the loo. Selfishly, he wished Harry would just lie back down, but he didn't think it was in the cards.

"I'm starving," Harry said, yawning. Draco reluctantly stood up and Harry used his wand to fold the blankets. Somehow watching Harry's hand wrapped around his own ebony wand reminded Draco that Harry would be of age soon.

"Your birthday's coming up," he said, sounding more grumpy than he felt.

Harry shrugged. "At the end of the month."

"And how much of that book on veela did you read?' Draco felt his anxiety increase as Harry shrugged again. He couldn't believe that the other boy didn't understand the importance of his coming of age.

"Most of it," Harry answered in a bored voice. "Why?"

Harry's uninterested manner infuriated Draco. He had given the book to Harry so that he wouldn't have to explain every little detail to the boy. And he had thought, when Harry had offered to keep close proximity to him, that the dark haired boy was aware and consenting to the bond, even on a small level. "Because, if you care to know, in order to keep my sanity intact we'll need to have bonded by that time."

A blush crept up Harry's face. "You mean..."

Draco couldn't stand the disgusted look that he thought he saw on Harry's face. He stomped around the room, grabbing too many pieces of clothing from the wardrobe. "We won't have to fuck, if that's what you're getting at," he yelled over his shoulder to Harry. "You won't have to touch me if you don't want to."

"_Draco_..." Harry spoke his name softly and Draco stopped. His anger dissipated entirely, and he was at Harry's command. Harry seemed to notice this change and was more than a little unnerved by it. "I know you think I don't understand, but I do. I would never touch Ginny or anyone else. I would never do that to you. And I'm perfectly willing to do whatever I have to, to keep you alive."

Harry's words weakened Draco and the blond clutched the wall for support and to keep himself from reaching out to Harry. "I-it's not anything big," Draco said, finding his voice. "We just have to make a vow. And we'll need a pair of magical objects to wear that'll symbolize the promise to complete the bond."

"Like promise rings?" Harry asked.

"Do you want rings? They're usually only used for marriage vows."

"Oh," said Harry, blushing furiously. "What do you suggest?"

"Most veelas use bracelets, but we could get necklaces if you prefer them."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not really into jewelry, do you mind just picking something out? I'll pay and everything." This seemed to be the right thing to say.

"I think I could find something appropriate. We'll need a binder. I would prefer Tonks, if you don't mind." He hadn't exactly grown to like the Metamorphmagus, but she was a competent witch and it didn't hurt that she was a Black. In fact, it made her ideal in Draco's eyes because blood had a way of strengthening magic.

"That sounds fine," Harry said, his stomach grumbling. "Can we go eat now?" Draco was surprised by Harry's nonchalant behavior. He wanted to know what Harry was thinking but knew he could not ask. Even if he could, he doubted Harry would tell him. Harry was still too leery of him, but he was consenting and that, at least, placated Draco.

Draco followed him down the stairs and into Mrs. Figg's kitchen. Mrs. Figg was hand-feeding a tiny brown kitten when the pair of them walked in.

"Oh, good going, Harry, you got him out of that room."

Harry blushed and avoided everyone's eyes as they sat down to lunch.

---

Using Harry's snowy owl, Draco sent away for merchandise lists from all the best jewelers in Britain. It took him a week and a half, but he was finally able to find the perfect set of bracelets for their vows. Harry appeared very pleased by the smooth silver when they arrived. He even tried to put his on before Draco could properly warn him against it.

"Harry! You can't put those on before the charm is cast." He snatched the bracelet away from the boy.

"Why? Is it bad luck?" Harry asked, reaching for it again.

"No, you imbecile. The bracelets are magical. They'll adjust to fit and they're not supposed to come off until the bond is complete."

Harry quickly put the bracelet back into the velvet box it had arrived in.

"When will Tonks be here?" Draco asked, already growing anxious.

"Tomorrow morning, but I talked to Remus about the vows and everything and uh, he thinks it's better if we wait until I actually turn seventeen because I... uh," he searched Draco's face, as he was want to do whenever he was about to give out sensitive information. Draco knew it was because Harry still wasn't sure about him. "I'm safe in my aunt and uncle's house because of some old blood magic, and it'll protect me until I am of age. Lupin thinks that if I make this vow, it might interfere and cause the magic to end early, and we really need it to last as long as possible."

Draco nodded; he always made sure to stay very quiet whenever Harry confided in him. It wasn't often, but Draco felt every intimation was a step closer to being someone Harry truly valued.

In the week that followed, neither of them ever brought up the morning they had awakened in each other's arms, and Draco never offered his bed to Harry, so they went back to sleeping separately. However, the closer they got to Harry's birthday, the more anxious Draco became whenever Harry was not around. Harry had noticed this and made it a point to spend the entire day with Draco on the days when he was supposed to sleeping at his aunt and uncle's house. He enjoyed showing Draco what he knew of the Muggle world. It surprised him how eager Draco was to learn how to use the microwave and the toaster. His opinion of the pureblooded pompous boy was slowly changing.

Draco was truly fascinated by the ways Muggles got around without magic. He had never really given the subject much thought, but he knew that Harry was raised by Muggles and would probably use Muggle appliances for the rest of his life.

During the week leading up to Harry's seventeenth birthday, Draco was again finding it difficult to get out of bed. He didn't even have the motivation to fight Harry when he took away his blankets. Finally, Harry had lain down beside him on the bed and allowed Draco to curl up with him and rest his head on Harry's broadening chest and lay a hand on his torso.

Both were too embarrassed to say a word as they lay there. Harry watched the clock on the wall for a good half hour before he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

"Harry?" Draco said suddenly, just as Harry was falling asleep.

"Hmm?"

"How far did you go with the Weasley girl?"

Harry laughed, a deep belly laugh that Draco could feel under the palm of his hand. Harry turned a beet red as he said, "I didn't even make it to second base."

"What's second base?"

"You know baseball?"

"Like that movie we watched?"

"Yeah, there's three bases: first, second, and third. Muggles like to say kissing a girl is making it to first base; second base is if you get to feel up a girl. And then third base is"--Harry's face was so hot he was sure it was possible to fry breakfast on it--"oral sex."

"And full sex?" Draco asked, very interested now.

"A homerun," Harry laughed.

"So you didn't feel up the Weasley girl?"

Harry shook his head, still entirely too red to be comfortable.

"And Chang?"

Harry scoffed. "Can only imagine how awful that would have been."

Draco's smile widened. "And you haven't been going to second base with any of your dorm mates, right?"

Harry mimed gagging. "Gross! Give me a break, Draco."

Draco laughed. "I just wanted to know."

"Yeah, well," Harry's voice wavered, "it's not something you have to worry about."

Feeling happier than he'd felt in days, Draco leapt of the bed, reveling in the fact that Harry seemed reluctant to move, and suggested a walk to the play park.

Once there, Draco took a seat in one of the swings and Harry joined him. A week after meeting Harry, Draco had discovered the nearly broom-like sensation of the swing set. The trick seemed to be working up to a very good speed and then gliding through the air as if riding a broom. Harry argued that nothing could ever rival the feeling of riding a broom, but enjoyed watching Draco attempt to test the limits of the swing set.

The pair came in at dinnertime and found Tonks sitting across from Mrs. Figg; both women looked anxious and preoccupied. Mrs. Figg jumped when Harry announced their return, and Tonks' teacup shattered.

Tonks cleaned up the mess and stood to greet Harry and Draco. They all took seats around the table and Mrs. Figg brought out dinner. Tonks watched Harry very carefully while he ate.

"Harry," she began, mid-way through the meal, "Where... what are you planning to do when you leave?"

Harry looked startled by the question. He automatically looked to Draco. "I thought we could get a place. I don't want to live at Headquarters, and I can't really live with the Weasleys forever."

Tonks cleared her throat. "The reason I ask is because we think the Death Eaters are planning a birthday party for you. Now, I know, what you're going to say. You don't want anyone making a big deal about your birthday, but I don't think you have any say this time. And what's more, it was your mother, Draco, who let the cat out of the bad, so to speak."

Draco looked up from his peas. "My mother?"

"Yes, she paid me a visit yesterday morning. I don't know why she came to me, but she wanted to know how you were doing. I told her I didn't know anything about you. She thought she could convince me by telling me about Harry's birthday party. I did," she said, seeing Draco's dark expression, "say that if I heard anything about you, I'd send her an owl."

"An owl would be intercepted," said Draco glumly.

"More than likely, but a summons wouldn't be questioned. I can call her in for questioning... that is, if you have a message for her."

Harry had turned away from him, but Draco glared determinedly at the back of Harry's head until the other boy sagged under the weight of his stare. He needed Harry to tell him it was okay to contact his mother, but the boy did not seem willing to meet his eyes. Draco realized he had to make the call for himself. He tried to think of what Harry would want him to do.

"If she's right about the attack on Harry's birthday," he said at last, and Harry finally met his eyes, "bring her in and let her know I'm safe." Tonks nodded, but Harry didn't make any sign of acknowledgement.

"Now, since we don't know where the attack is planned or who they are targeting, I think it's best we get the two of you out of here the day before Harry's birthday. If you're serious about getting a flat, Harry, the Order can find a secure location. We'll make it Unplottable and all that stuff. They'll probably want to put the Fidelius Charm on it."

"Would you be our Secret-Keeper?" Draco asked at the same time that Harry said, "I think it's best."

Harry turned to look at Draco and Tonks beamed at the blond boy. "I'd be honored. But I'm sure Harry would prefer Ron or Hermione to be Secret-Keeper."

Draco looked affronted. "But they wouldn't make good Secret-Keepers, they're too obvious."

The subject was dropped but was sure to be brought up again, as Tonks spoke up. "If you're still going to make your vows, I still think it's best we wait until your birthday, Harry. The wards around the neighborhood here should linger enough to keep your aunt and uncle safe, we think."

After Tonks left, Harry looked curiously at Draco as they went up to his bedroom. "You know Tonks is a half-blood, don't you?"

Draco shrugged. "Of course I do."

"But you want her to be our Secret-Keeper?"

"She's still half-Black," Draco said, as if it explained everything. "Are you serious about getting us a flat?"

"I think it'd be nice to have my own place, why? Is that okay?"

Draco smiled; it was perfect.

"Listen," Harry started, keeping his cheeks only mildly pink, "since we're getting so close to my birthday, it's probably better if I just stay close to you. I planned on sleeping at the Dursleys' tonight, so if you want to come with me, we can sleep there tonight."

Draco thought it was the perfect way to end the best day he'd had in months. Harry snuck Draco into the Dursleys house using his Invisibility Cloak. After staring at the pink and green floral wallpaper in Mrs. Figg's guest room for so long, Draco found the bare white walls in Harry's room refreshing. The small twin bed in the corner was another matter altogether. Draco quickly attempted to persuade Harry to transfigure it into a full size bed. Harry was reluctant to use magic in his Aunt's house but he finally relented and performed the magic. Both boys moved to pull back the blankets on the bed. Harry blushed but did not back away from the bed.

Once they were both comfortable, and a fair distance lay between them, Draco turned to face Harry. The other boy was watching the ceiling silently.

"I never liked girls," Draco said suddenly. He didn't know what compelled him to say it, he hadn't really ever thought about it before. In fact, he was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he nearly missed Harry's sharp intake of breath.

"You mean, you like guys?"

Draco laughed. "I don't think I ever liked anyone. Guess it's the veela thing."

Harry shifted around to look at him. "You're not angry at all? I mean, you don't get a choice. If you did, I don't think you would have chosen me."

Draco couldn't meet his eyes. "You could blame my emotions right now, but I think I still would have chosen you. I think I chose you the moment I couldn't kill Dumbledore... and you probably don't like hearing that either," Draco added glumly.

Harry sighed. "I've had a lot of time to think about it. And I know you did what you thought you had to. None of us ever offered you a choice, and we should have. It's also made me think that a lot of the Slytherins in our year are probably going to join Voldemort because they don't think we'll accept them. I regret that a lot."

Draco said nothing.

"You've changed my whole life," Harry said after a while with a bit of hysteria in his voice.

Draco turned quickly to look at him. "Do you hate me?"

Harry kicked his feet out, pushing blankets away. "No, that's the worst part. I can't hate you, and I can't hate Dumbledore." Harry sobered quickly and added, "I kept thinking I'd probably die before this war was over without having loved anyone. I'm not saying I love you; I don't think I even know you that well, but I..." Harry stopped and Draco wished he'd finish, if only so that he could let out the breath he was holding.

"Most people never find their soul mates," Harry continued. "And that book says veela like you are rare and Dumbledore always said that love was the one thing Voldemort always underestimated..." Harry stopped himself saying love was 'the power the Dark Lord knows not.' He took a deep breath and continued, "I just know this is big. It's a sign and it makes me think maybe I can win." Harry's voice was low, but Draco hung on to every word. And when the dark haired boy was done, Draco couldn't stop himself from sliding over to lie against him.

"You'll win," Draco said, and he was sure of it because he had to be. To his immense surprise, Harry curled his arm around Draco's waist and held the pale boy against him. They fell asleep wrapped up in their own thoughts and in each other. Tomorrow would come soon enough but at that moment, it looked more promising than it had the day before.


	6. 7 Cross Ct

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Six**

7 Cross Court

---

On the day of the ceremony, Tonks arrived an hour late, looking somber. Her usual greeting was weak, and both boys immediately realized something was wrong.

"Tonks?" Harry implored, worry creasing his brow.

Tonks looked to him and Draco watched as the tall girl crumpled a little.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she said softly, her voice wavering.

"What is it?" asked Harry, coming to her side. "Is someone hurt?"

These words did nothing to calm the witch, and she only managed to cry harder. "Remus is missing."

Harry immediately stepped away from Tonks and Draco hurried to his side. He wanted to comfort Harry but wasn't sure how close Harry would allow him.

"No!" said Harry, incredulous. Draco took a step back before he realized Harry was not moving away from him. Tentatively, Draco put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"How?" Harry asked.

"He had gone to Greyback and we haven't heard from him..." She paused, emotion building in her eyes. "It's been over a week. The Order has no way of knowing, one way or the other... I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry immediately dismissed her apology. "Don't, Tonks. I care about Remus, he's the only one of my parents' friends left. But you... I mean, you love him, don't you?"

Tonks nodded and a single tear escaped her eye. "I do, Harry. I do love him. I just wish... if only Dumbledore were here."

Draco moved away from them both at her words, afraid that his presence might remind them of the hand he had had in the Headmaster's death.

"Are they looking for him?" Harry asked, moving over to pat Tonks' shoulder awkwardly. Both boys felt out of place in a room with a crying adult female. Draco wondered where Mrs. Figg had gone; she, at least, could get Tonks some tea.

"No!" Tonks moaned. "No one can because we don't know where! Remus never said! And the Ministry won't help because he's a... a..." she took a long steadying breath, "...a _werewolf_."

Harry's hand stilled on Tonks' shoulder and Draco saw his eyes darken. He didn't know the exact details, but he knew Harry had been close to Sirius Black and he wondered how close he was to their ex-professor.

Harry began talking again and Draco looked at him, searching his face for emotion. "I'm so sorry, Tonks. I think the Order will find him though. That is, if Remus doesn't find a way out himself. He's very smart; he'll find a way out if anyone can." Judging by his distant voice, Draco thought Harry was trying to convince himself just as much as Tonks.

They were quiet for a while and Draco didn't dare look at Harry; he could feel those piercing green eyes burning a hole in the side of his face. He didn't know what Harry was thinking and he wished more than anything that he could find out. He wanted to know if Harry was hurting, if he was scared, or if he hated Draco just a little more.

Tonks sniffled quietly and Harry turned to look at her instead. Draco sneaked a glance at the dark haired boy and immediately the emerald eyes shot back to him. They looked at each other for a long quiet moment; the silence was interrupted only by Tonks' sniffles. Harry was searching for truth in Draco's face. He was looking for answers. Draco tried to leave himself open for Harry to read. He pleaded with Harry to let him in, to forgive him.

Finally, Harry closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. He clutched the table for support. It was too much. Remus could be dead and here he was, about to be bonded to Draco Malfoy. It was too much.

Draco's eyes focused on Harry's iron grip of the table. The grief-stricken boy's fingers were inches from the jewelry box that held their bracelets and as Draco spotted them, he instantly turned to the clock on the wall and realized they were terribly behind schedule. Tonks had shown up late and they had so little time to begin with.

"I'm really sorry about Professor Lupin and everything, Tonks, but it's nearly seven o'clock and we need to hurry if you're to do the spell and we're to leave tonight," said Draco anxiously.

Tonks nodded, apologizing once again, and standing; her mousy brown hair seemed to droop, as she took deep calming breaths. "Right, well, do you have the spell?"

Any fantasies Draco may have harbored for a romantic ceremony disappeared as Tonks sniffled and reached for the book she would read from. Draco grabbed Harry's hand and intertwined their fingers. For a moment, Draco wondered if Harry still wanted to bond. He met the other boy's eyes and Harry did his best to smile. Tonks touched the tip of her wand to the top of their joined hands. She began the incantation, but was forced to stop every few seconds to brush at her eyes.

The bracelets sat on a table not far away; the moment she started speaking, they began to glow a pearly white.

"You, Draco Malfoy, have the blood of the ancient and powerful veela. You, Harry Potter, were chosen for this veela. From your birth to your death, you were meant for only one another. From now until the end of time, you will love no other. Destiny is the force that brings you together; let love be the force that holds you together forever more." Blue jets of light shot out of Tonks' wand and wrapped around the bracelets. Tonks picked one up and the metal turned a fiery red. Draco grew worried it would burn when it touched his skin. He let go of Harry's hand and saw Harry flinch as Tonks slid one of the bracelets onto his wrist.

Tonks turned to him and as the other bracelet slipped onto his wrist, Draco felt it warming and morphing to fit him. Once the process was over, he felt the darkness that had been taking over his mind lift and he turned to smile at Harry. Harry, on the other hand, looked dazed and confused.

"Are you okay?" Draco whispered, not letting go of the other boy's hand.

Harry nodded slowly, coming out of his haze. "I think so, yeah, just felt a bit funny."

Curious, Draco asked, "What did you feel?"

Harry blushed. "Like something clicked into place. I don't know. It's just strange."

Draco nodded, beaming. He caught sight of Tonks' tear streaked face and the smile melted from his lips. She had watched the magic bind them with a look of longing and fear in her eyes.

They wasted no time once the spell was cast. The bags that had been packed the night before were already waiting by the door. Tonks levitated their things and they walked out to find an awaiting Ministry car.

Tonks stood by as Harry and Draco piled in. She joined them seconds later and the car took off.

"Kingsley's driving," she said, motioning to where a black wizard sat at the wheel. "We found a place in London, not far from Headquarters and safe. It's in a completely Muggle neighborhood, and it took us an entire week to set the wards. A full team worked day and night. We think it's probably as safe as Hogwarts... only not as accessible. The Fidelius was set yesterday, and so far I haven't told a soul where to find you. When we get there, I'm going to make each of you Unreachable. You won't be able to receive owls from today on, and you should be able to use magic as much as you like. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick have developed a spell that will make any magic untraceable within the walls of your new home."

"Sounds like you thought of everything," said Harry fondly.

"Well, you can still be found," said Tonks seriously. "If you send too many owls or if you leave the house too often. It doesn't take much -- which is one of the reasons that we found a place near Headquarters. Now, take this," she handed Harry a piece of paper. Harry memorized the address and passed it to Draco who did the same.

_Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy can be found at 7 Cross Ct, London._

They arrived on Cross Court and Draco looked wonderingly at his new neighborhood. It was such a busy area that Draco was sure it would only be a matter of days before the Muggles noticed the magic going on under their noses and then he'd be strung up by his ankles and set out to burn.

Harry did not seem to share his anxiety. When they stopped, he was the first out of the car. Draco again looked dismayed at the building that materialized before them.

"We knew you wanted a flat, but we couldn't just make a single flat Unplottable, so we had to find a house," explained Tonks.

When Draco looked at him, he saw that Harry was anything but disappointed. The small house had a short white fence around it and weeds obscured most of the front side and the entire garden. They walked up the short drive and through the front garden to the door. Tonks let them in and when they looked back, Kingsley had driven away.

Draco immediately noticed the house had not been furnished. There was a small table in the dining room and two chairs. Lying on the table was the inventory list for Granada's Wizarding Wares in Diagon Alley; Draco supposed it would be left to him to decorate whilst Harry went off and saved the world.

The house was more spacious than it had appeared from the outside, and Draco wondered if it was because of the magic within it or the shrubberies outside that obscured the house. Harry had gone up to the second floor to check out the bedrooms. Draco followed to find two empty bedrooms and a pile of blankets in one closet.

"I am not sleeping on the floor," he declared instantly.

Harry laughed. "Are you not a wizard, Malfoy? You can just transfigure a bed!"

Draco scowled and mumbled obscenities under his breath.

Harry was far too delighted with having a home of his own to pay any mind to someone else's grievances. His happiness quickly became infectious and Draco stopped scowling. The floor wasn't so bad; it was certainly better than letting Harry know he was pants at transfigurations.

In all the excitement, they nearly forgot about Tonks and her grief. She came to find them and both Harry and Draco immediately stopped smiling. Her eyes were still red and even though she tried to keep her composure, Draco knew she would burst into tears again as soon as she left. She did not stay long, but before she left, she declared that she would be by the next day to check up on them.

Draco settled into the hard wood chair in the kitchen. He picked up the catalogue for Granada's Wizarding Wares and began picking out every piece of furniture he thought they would need.

Harry explored the kitchen for a while before coming over to sit across from him at the table. He watched as Draco's list kept expanding. He didn't worry about the cost so much, but had to wonder if maybe it was better if they didn't buy _all_ of their furniture at once. Would it really matter what table they ate off of if he didn't defeat Voldemort? They would need beds, of course, but other than that, was there any point?

He reached out to stop Draco's quill by covering Draco's hand with his own. "Draco, hey, stop that for a second, will you?"

Draco stopped writing and looked up at Harry, squeezing his hand. "You're not worried about how much it'll cost, are you? Because I still have access to the Malfoy vaults, and I..."

He shook his head. "No. That's not it at all. I just..." Harry sighed and pulled his hand away, running it through his unruly locks instead. "Shouldn't we wait a while? What if something happens?"

Draco glared at him. "Like what? Are you regretting the bond already?"

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No, not that! No, I was thinking about Voldemort..."

Draco sighed dramatically, "You were thinking that if you died then there really wouldn't be any point in having a decorated house? Look, I thought we had an agreement. You'd kill the Dark Lord, keep yourself alive, and I would... well, I would stay out of the whole thing but my point is, we agreed you'd survive."

Harry shook his head. "I can't promise I'll survive, I never could. I just think if we buy all this stuff, it's like making a promise we can't really keep. What if we never use it?"

Draco picked up his quill again. "If you think you're going to lose, Potter, you're probably right."

Harry watched him thoughtfully. He didn't interrupt again. When Draco's hand next stopped writing, he looked over at Harry and sighed.

"I can't concentrate now," Draco said dejectedly as he rubbed his eyes. "Do you really think it's that hopeless?"

Harry shrugged. "I know Dumbledore thought I could do it, and I know everyone's expecting me to do it... but I don't know. I'm just a boy with a scar on my forehead, you know? I don't have a secret weapon, I don't have any super powers."

Draco searched Harry's emerald eyes for a moment before asking, "Are you the Chosen One, Harry?"

Harry's eyes widened and he looked away. "That Daily Prophet stuff is all rubbish, you know that, Draco."

Draco looked down at his shopping list. He didn't look up as he asked, "Do you trust me, Harry?"

Harry couldn't answer one way or the other; he thought he did, but he wasn't sure he should. Draco looked up in time to see him shrug.

The blond rolled his eyes. "Let me rephrase that. You just made a vow to spend the rest of your life with me, to never betray and always stand by me. I made the same vow to you--" he lifted his arm "--and this bracelet links me to you. You jump, I jump. Now, do you trust me?"

Harry looked out of the window towards the night sky. "When you put it that way, I guess I do."

"Then tell me the truth!" Draco demanded, his excitement growing. "You're the Chosen One, aren't you? Dumbledore found a way to defeat the Dark Lord and it killed him. But it won't kill you, will it? He had lessons with you all year. He told you how to do it, didn't he?"

Out of restless frustration, Harry stood and kicked the chair away from the table. "You don't know what you're talking about."

His actions frustrated Draco. "So, tell me! Who am I going to tell, Harry? Do you think I'll send the Dark Lord an owl? This--" he pulled back his sleeve to reveal the mark on his arm "--isn't a two-way intercom!" He had learned so much from Muggle television. "He can't hear you."

Draco watched, his heart torn, as Harry wiped at angry tears. "I can't tell you! I can't tell anyone!"

"Why?" asked Draco, not believing for one second that Weasley and Granger didn't already know.

"I don't know!" Harry yelled, tears flowing freely down his face.

"You should tell me," said Draco, his voice steady, "because I can't leave you now. You're all I have. And it sounds like you need help. You can't do this on your own. If you do, you will fail. But I can't believe you're this selfish." His false calmness was vanishing and he could feel the anger returning.

Harry refused to look at him. "I'm not being selfish."

Draco shook his head. "I just don't understand why you can't trust me! What do you hate the most about me? Is it my father? Or the fucking Dark Mark on my arm?"

Harry didn't answer. He wasn't even looking at Draco and it was infuriating.

Draco snorted ruefully. "You're so ridiculous. It's my fucking life you're dealing with now. Am I supposed to wait around until you get us both killed?"

Harry closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists. "Isn't it enough that I said the vow? I can't give you everything you want in one night. I need some time! I need..." Harry appeared to be shaking, and when the tears started again, Draco was instantly at his side. The veela knelt beside him and took Harry's cold hands into his own.

"I'm sorry," Draco murmured. "Of course it's enough. I'm so sorry."

Harry stared into Draco's grey eyes. He'd been waiting all this time for the other shoe to drop, for Draco to show his true colors and it had never happened. Now they had exchanged vows. He could feel the bond as if it was a living, breathing _thing_. And yet, he still couldn't let go of that nagging voice that told him not to trust Draco. It was the part of him that hadn't quite left the Astronomy Tower and hadn't forgotten the image of Dumbledore's prone body.

Draco rested a hand on his shoulder and Harry focused his eyes on the boy in front of him. Dumbledore wanted to save Draco. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the back of the other boy's neck. He drew the blond in. Soon they were less than an inch apart, and Harry swallowed thickly before pressing his lips against Draco's.

He had to let go.

Draco was so startled by the kiss that he kept his eyes open long enough to see the pained expression on Harry's face as he kissed him. Harry whimpered and Draco pulled away. The pain and embarrassment hadn't yet sunk in before Harry had thrown himself into Draco's open arms. The Boy Who Lived trembled as he sobbed into Draco's shoulder and mumbled incoherencies into Draco's shirt. Draco didn't understand a word of what Harry was saying, but he thought maybe he'd finally broken through the barrier that had stood between them.

When they finally pulled apart, Draco ran upstairs to grab a bunch of blankets and bring them down. He hastily made a bed on the floor of the sitting room. Harry was still shell-shocked and standing in the middle of the kitchen, where Draco had left him. The blond veela guided his soul mate over to their make-shift bed; once they were comfortable, he put out the lights. That night, Draco didn't have any reservations about moving into Harry's personal space.

He knew it had to be past midnight as he rested his head on Harry's chest and whispered, "Happy birthday, Harry."


	7. Awakening

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Seven**

Awakening

---

The next morning when Harry woke up on the floor of his new home, his back sore from sleeping in an awkward position on the floor, it took him a moment to realize where he was and how he had gotten there. Once his awareness was heightened, he realized there was something different. It wasn't that Draco was curled against him--that had stopped being new weeks ago. He could feel the bond pulsing in his blood. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling coursing through his skin and found it oddly comforting. Even though he knew Voldemort was out there somewhere looking for him, Harry felt safe. He could feel Draco's love and concern for him like it was a newly discovered piece of his soul. The mere thought of what it all had to mean scared him to death, because it meant he had underestimated his feelings for the veela.

In the days leading up to his birthday, he had felt as though he was searching for something that he could not find; he couldn't even remember what it was but now he knew. _Draco_. He'd known for an entire month that Draco was his soul mate but he never fully understood what it meant. It meant, Harry sighed with newfound clarity, that his heart lurched at the sight of Draco and his lips tingled at the thought of the kiss they'd shared.

He could feel his body full of need--lust--for the veela. His heart rate sped up and he forced his thoughts clear suddenly. _No_, he thought furiously, _I don't want Draco Malfoy like that. I can't._ But he could, and he did. There was another feeling, too, that he was now conscious of: a feeling of fierce loyalty and protectiveness over Draco. Harry wondered if this meant Draco would feel everything he felt. He couldn't help but wonder if the bond would make Draco feel love and concern within Harry that Harry himself wasn't sure he even really felt for the blond.

He thought Draco might love him, but Draco was veela and that was different. Harry was human and no matter what he might _want_, he didn't think it meant he was in love.

Absently, he began to rub Draco's back; the movement gave his hands something to do while he thought. Unfortunately, it was also waking Draco up.

Draco opened his grey eyes and looked up at Harry. Harry's heart jumped and he smiled. "Morning."

As he awoke, Draco suddenly found himself gazing into the adoring--wait. Adoring? He looked. Yes, _adoring_ eyes of his... not lover, not boyfriend, not anything really, except... his soul mate. He wanted desperately to reach up and kiss Harry. Unfortunately, before he could, Harry snapped out of his strange mood and disentangled himself from Draco. Draco gasped at the pain caused by being separated so abruptly. The bond was so new and the fragile veela in him was still waiting for a sign from his mate to let him know that he didn't regret it. Harry looked back at him, noticing the reaction, but said nothing. The pain was momentary, and Draco was doing his best to smile again. "Happy Birthday, Harry," he said, wanting desperately to kiss the bespectacled boy.

Harry smiled at him. "Thank you."

They sat in relatively comfortable silence until Harry broke the mood by saying, "We should get up now; it has to be very late." He wasn't looking at Draco anymore, choosing instead to look around the bare room that extended into the bare hall and the bare stairs and the bare rooms upstairs. Harry sighed. "Make sure you put in that order today."

Draco only smiled and nodded. He had it ready; when Tonks next came by to see them, he planned on having her take it straight to Diagon Alley. Harry made to get up and Draco wasn't sure if he could stand for Harry to leave him completely. He hoped it had been out of confusion that Harry's earlier move caused him pain because he had only just been waking up and seeing Harry move away had looked like rejection. To be on the safe side, he tried to start a conversation with Harry but couldn't think of anything to say; then he realized he had not said good-bye to Mrs. Figg the night before.

"Where do you think Mrs. Figg was last night when we left?"

Harry yawned. "Tonks sent her on patrol. Most everybody knows her, so they're not much bothered by her walking around."

Draco nodded absently. "Do you think we'll see her again?"

Harry shrugged. "I doubt it. You can, if you'd like."

Draco remembered that Harry had been eager to get away from his relatives and didn't think the bespectacled boy would be pleased to return.

"Maybe I will," Draco said finally. His stomach grumbled and he decided to move on to more immediate concerns. "You looked through the kitchen last night; was there any food?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, it's fully stocked."

Draco looked warily in the direction of the kitchen. "And is any of it pre-made?"

Harry laughed. "I don't think so. But don't worry, I can fry us up something."

"You can cook." Draco sounded well pleased with this discovery. "Are you good?"

Harry blushed as he answered, "I've never had any complaints."

The color in Harry's cheeks pulled at Draco's heart and when the other boy stood, stretched and walked towards the kitchen, Draco caught a glimpse of his taut abdomen and was completely distracted by it.

Harry looked back to see Draco sitting on top of their pile of blankets, his eyes glazed and his hair and clothing thoroughly ruffled. He looked... well shagged. It took Harry half an hour longer than usual to make breakfast.

Harry avoided making eye contact all through breakfast. Draco, however, stared dreamily at him throughout the entire meal.

As he carried their dishes to the sink, Harry asked coolly, "Are there any _effects_ from the charm last night?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't think so. Why? Are you feeling ill?"

"No," said Harry, blushing. "Not ill."

Draco raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Listen," Harry said suddenly, after the dishes were washed and they had sat around watching the clock for a good half hour, "About last night..."

Draco cut in. "Don't worry about it."

Harry shook his head. "No, listen. You're right. You need to know, because I want you to know where I'm at when I'm gone and I know what it's like to know you're involved but to have no one tell you what's going on. But honestly, I don't even know where to start."

Draco's heart swelled and he smiled encouragingly. "Try the beginning."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to do it today. I mean, I'm going to tell you. There's just a lot, and I have Dumbledore's Pensieve, so I thought maybe we could use it."

Draco nodded and they went back to watching the clock. His head was full of questions. Why was Harry asking about effects from the vows? Why had he changed his mind about telling Draco his secrets? And most importantly, why had he looked at Draco this morning like the blond was the most gorgeous creature he had laid eyes on? Was it possible that Harry felt more for him than he let on...? Draco stopped himself; of course Harry felt more than he let on. They were meant for each other; somewhere, somehow, Harry had to love him.

Harry was staring very hard at the table in order to stop himself from looking at Draco. His body and his heart were telling him that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Draco, that he wanted to consummate the bond and feel truly connected to the blond. His mind, on the other hand, kept reminding him who Draco Malfoy truly was--the family he came from, the life he'd led, the choices he'd made. Draco had told him that he'd known they were soul mates for years and yet he had had no problems tormenting Harry and his friends. He'd never shown any remorse for any of the things he'd said or did.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but when Harry looked up and caught Draco's eyes, his stomach flipped and he couldn't say anything.

Tonks arrived shortly after lunch, bearing a mountain of gifts for Harry with her. Her hair was unkempt and a mousy brown color. Draco took it to mean Professor Lupin had not been found overnight. When Harry asked, she did her best to control her emotions as she informed them that there was still no sign.

"Do you think I could..." Harry started to ask, but when he looked at Draco, he paused. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'd like to help... look... for Remus."

Tonks gave Harry a grateful smile. "Oh, Harry. I wish you could, I really do wish you could, but you know we can't risk you; but don't... don't worry. The Order is looking for him."

Harry wasn't deterred. "Tonks... what can the Order do?"

Tonks took a seat. "Harry, there's not much _you_ can do either. Even I... we... the Order... Look, the thing is, when you're a member of the Order of the Phoenix, or even if you're an Auror, you know there will be days when you have to make a sacrifice."--Harry tried to interrupt, but she wouldn't let him.--"This is war, Harry. We have to accept the consequences."

She gathered herself admirably as she spoke and Draco's respect for her grew. He wasn't sure how much of her words she truly believed, but they seemed to be the right thing to say to Harry. The Boy Who Lived looked away from them both but said nothing.

"I'm sorry, Harry. You've had more loss than you can bear and I know you want to do something," Tonks stood and put an arm on his shoulder, "but just this time, stay here." She looked at Draco and Harry's eyes followed. Draco tried not to crumble under their scrutiny. He wanted to tell Tonks that it was not a good idea to use him to get to Harry, because Harry hadn't--not really--forgiven him or changed his opinion of him.

To his immense surprise, Harry nodded. "It's what Dumbledore would want," he said simply. Tonks smiled sadly at him and hugged him briefly.

She left soon after with Draco's order in hand, and Harry walked over to the table piled with gifts. It seemed as though every person he knew had sent him a gift. He went through all the gifts happily enough, though Draco could see that Harry didn't seem to care too much for any of his presents. He found the usual Weasley sweater and slipped it on, leaving the rest of the gifts on the floor where he'd been unwrapping them.

Once he was done, Draco handed him a small package.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

Draco's cheeks grew warm. "A gift."

Harry smiled at him and opened the package.

"I ordered it when I ordered the rings," Draco said nervously as he waited for Harry's reaction.

Harry nodded and pulled out a silver ornate necklace. A rune was engraved on a heavy pendant that hung from the thick chain.

He looked up at Draco. "What does it mean?"

"It's charmed," said Draco, taking the necklace into his own hands. "It'll absorb dark curses. I figured you could always use the extra protection."

Harry swallowed thickly and thanked Draco. "You really shouldn't have."

The veela shrugged. "Maybe not, but I wanted to anyway."

Harry nodded again. He had to turn away so the blond wouldn't see how wet his eyes had become. He hadn't expected the gift; he knew Draco believed he loved Harry, but knowing something without any proof didn't mean anything really. The necklace was proof that someone--_Draco_--cared.

There were more than a few letters on the table with the gifts that Tonks had brought. Harry picked one up and read it quickly.

"The Weasleys want me to stay with them." Draco noticed that this idea didn't seem at all enticing to Harry.

"They're your friends, you should."

Harry's eyes flickered to him and back to the letter. "No."

This was strange to Draco; he had always thought the trio was joined at the hip. It also seemed strange to him that, since he'd been with Harry, he had heard very little about the dark-haired boy's two best friends. The only time Harry had left to see them had been for Percy Weasley's funeral.

One of the packages had a birthday cake, and another held a fresh cooked meal courtesy of Mrs. Weasley.

Over dinner that night, Draco asked, "Do you miss Weasley and Granger?"

Harry blew out a puff of air. "Yeah, I do. But... it's not easy. Right now, they've got each other. And there's not really... there's not much we can do about Voldemort right now, so I kind of want to let them have this time, you know? Before we go off fighting the Dark Side."

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "You're being noble, then?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess. That and, I can't exactly invite them over. Tonks has already told me she's not giving out the address any time soon."

"You don't want to go visit them?"

"Do you want me to leave you here all by yourself?"

Draco knew Harry was making excuses, but he dropped the conversation.

"Draco," Harry said as composedly as he could manage, "in the morning we can start looking through the Pensieve."

Draco smiled, not altogether satisfied with this turn of events. Harry was hiding something from him, or he was hiding from something, and Draco didn't like it. However, his need to know about Harry's plans for Voldemort far outweighed his need to know about Harry's tiffs with his friends, and so, he was perfectly content to forget about his dissatisfaction.

---

In the morning, Harry pulled the Pensieve out of a wooden box that had been brought over with their belongings. He sat it on the table in the dinning room and the pair of them sat watching the swirling memories. Harry touched the tip of his wand to his temple and extracted a memory. He deposited it in the Pensieve and they watched as an image appeared.

"The only memory I have of my parents," Harry said, his voice calm, "is what I saw and heard in our third year when the dementors came near me," he gave Draco a pointed look, "which is the reason I always fainted."

Draco smiled apologetically.

"Therefore, I only know what Dumbledore has told me. My parents were members of the Order of the Phoenix along with their three school friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Around the time I was born, a prophecy was made about a boy who had the power to vanquish the Dark Lord." The image from Dumbledore's office, where Harry had heard the prophecy in its entirety, appeared. He watched Draco as Draco watched Trelawney. To his surprise, the blond boy did not react to the prophecy.

For his part, Draco had imagined something very similar to what the prophecy said. He knew his father had gone in search of a prophecy concerning Harry and the Dark Lord at the Ministry of Magic when he was arrested.

Harry continued speaking, "Trelawney made the prophecy to Dumbledore in the Hog's Head when he had gone to interview her for the Divination position and they were overheard; that's how Voldemort found out about it. Someone heard the first half of the prophecy."

"Who?" asked Draco.

"Snape," answered Harry, disdainfully. "He reported it to Voldemort who became obsessed with it. He wanted to kill the baby the prophecy was about before it could grow up to defeat him. But I wasn't the only child born at the end of July to members of the Order. Neville's birthday was yesterday."

Draco snorted. "But Longbottom's useless."

Harry looked away. "All the more reason for Voldemort to have gone after Neville, but he didn't. He went after me. Snape... I guess he got scared, or... well, for whatever reason, he went to Dumbledore and told him what he had done. My parents and I went into hiding. And as we all know, Peter Pettigrew was made Secret-Keeper and he betrayed my parents to Voldemort. But when Voldemort came to kill me, my..." Harry stopped; he cleared his throat and tried to continue. "Voldemort killed my father first. He tried to stop him from getting to my mom and me. Once he was dead, Voldemort found us. He tried to get her to let me go, he even promised to let her go free but she sacrificed herself for me, and that's why, when Voldemort tried to kill me, her sacrifice protected me and the curse rebounded."

Draco was astonished by this account. There were stories, of course, but most of them concluded that it had been a special power that Harry had that had stopped the Dark Lord.

"Uh, anyway. Voldemort didn't die, but he didn't have a body anymore and he was very weak. I was sent off to live with my aunt and uncle because my mother's blood would continue to protect me as long as I was living under her sister's roof. I didn't... they didn't like me very much. Until I got my Hogwarts letter, I didn't know anything about my parents. I didn't know anything about the magical world... I always kind of thought there was something different about me. Strange things that happened and everything but also... I knew there had to be somewhere out there where I belonged."

Draco nodded sympathetically. The hidden emotion he could sense and could almost see in Harry's eyes was heartbreaking. So he had had nothing for eleven years. No love, no family, and no real understanding of who he was.

"When Hagrid gave me my letter and took me to Diagon Alley, everything made sense. It all _clicked_."

There was that word again, _clicked_, thought Draco wryly. The day before, Harry had said that the bond had felt like something had clicked into place. It was like little pieces of Harry Potter coming together, bit by bit.

"And I met this very arrogant boy in a robe shop..."

Draco stopped him. "... and you were completely rude to him; you made him feel inferior to you, which he had never felt before in his entire life."

Harry laughed. "Anyway, I went to Hogwarts. I found out about my parents and magic and everything and then, at the end of the year, I met Voldemort."

Draco nodded; he had heard the tales. Harry pulled another memory from his mind. "I think it's best if you see each time I have met with Voldemort, I think it might give us clues. Draco gulped nervously, but nodded anyway. He hoped to never see the Dark Lord again.

Harry nodded to him and Draco pressed his wand into the swirling waters of the Pensieve. He was sucked into a memory of Hogwarts. Harry dropped into the scene beside him and they watched as the Golden Trio made their way through the maze and then Harry defeated Quirrel.

Harry went white when he saw Quirrel's charred and disfigured body. Draco didn't hesitate to pull them both out of the memory; any more of it, and he'd be sick as well.

It took Harry two cups of tea and leftover cake to manage to continue with his story.

"Second year, I met Voldemort again. He was the Heir of Slytherin, you see, and in his time at Hogwarts he'd figured out how to open the Chamber of Secrets. He found out that he couldn't kill half the student body and stay at the school, so he closed it. But he stored the information about it and a piece of his soul in a diary so that, someday, he could come back and finish what he'd started. It was the diary that your father put in Ginny's cauldron during our second year, which possessed her and forced her to open the Chamber of Secrets. When I killed the basilisk, I also destroyed the diary."

"M-my father?" Draco looked alarmed for a moment, before he realized it wasn't all that shocking. "He picked that fight with Weasleys' dad that day, didn't he? Used it as a distraction."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I think Voldemort asked your father for it after he was resurrected; I don't think he was pleased to know it was destroyed."

Draco's cheeks were tinted a light pink, probably embarrassment at who his father had been. Harry pulled the memory from his mind and Draco watched as Tom Riddle told his own story, and then he saw Harry injured and he immediately reached for Real Harry's hand. Real Harry squeezed back as they watched his younger self destroy the diary.

Once they were out of the memory, Draco took a deep breath. "I think I've had enough."

Harry looked at him apprehensively. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Draco shook his head. "Nothing. I just need to think."

Harry nodded and watched as the blond went upstairs. Neither of them had spent very much time on the second floor but Draco thought it would be the perfect place to sit and think.

Nothing Harry had said had been a huge shock. The entire school had known about his adventures and his father had been a participant in more than one episode. Yet, there were still things he learned. No one knew what happened in Godric's Hollow when Voldemort visited. He certainly did not know Harry Potter had not known about his own parents.

Harry was a bigger emotional mess than Draco had ever imagined but it helped him understand the Boy Who Lived a little better. Harry couldn't love him the way he was now. He would have to know love before he could express it, but Draco didn't know what to do about that, either. He wasn't sure _he_ understood love well enough to be handing out advice.

Then there was the prophecy. He hadn't been surprised, not really, everyone knew Harry was special. Yet, there were riddles within it that Draco could not come to terms with. And after thinking it a funny joke, he couldn't help wondering what life would be like if the Dark Lord had gone after Neville Longbottom instead. He couldn't help wondering if his relationship with Harry might have been harder to pursue... as if it wasn't hard enough already. Had Neville managed to die, Voldemort would have gone on to conquer the entire world. Then again, if Neville had succeeded at defeating the Dark Lord, Harry would have grown up in the wizarding world with parents that hated Draco and his family. Instead of six years of hatred to work through, they would have had sixteen, because he was sure Harry would have hated him from birth.

Overall, the conversation had left Draco tired, and he found himself drifting off to sleep on the floor of the master bedroom.

---

The next morning, Draco went downstairs with his head clear and found Harry in the kitchen. The dark haired man was stirring a pot on the stove furiously. A book was open on the countertop and Draco walked further in.

Harry didn't notice him until Draco was at his back, reading over his shoulder.

"Good morning," Draco said, his breath hitching as he inhaled Harry's masculine scent.

Harry stiffened but ignored the blond.

Draco finally recognized the book. "What are you doing with Advanced Potion-Making?"

Harry continued to stir angrily and did not answer.

Draco frowned at his back. "You're angry."

The stirring sped up and Draco tried to concentrate on what he could have possibly done to anger Harry. "Are you going to tell me why?"

Harry stopped stirring. He moved mechanically away from the stove and towards the cutting table, where he began to crush a cupful of spider legs.

Draco sighed, moving, once again, over to where Harry stood. "How could I possibly have pissed you off? I've been upstairs since yesterday!"

Finally, Harry gave Draco a long, hard, piercing look. He pulled out a handful of roots from his potion supplies and grabbed a rather large knife to start chopping them.

Draco's eyes widened. "You're angry because I've been upstairs?"

Harry shrugged and looked away from the blond. Draco studied his profile and tried to find clues. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. He sighed and focused his attention elsewhere. If he knew the dark-haired boy at all, sooner or later, Harry would tell him what he'd done wrong.


	8. The Story of Tom Riddle

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Eight**

The Story of Tom Riddle

--

When the silence became too much to bear, Draco sighed and said, "I'm not going to go away until you tell me what I did."

Harry shrugged. "I don't care what you do."

He smashed a particularly large root with his fist and Draco flinched. "No, of course not."

He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. It aroused and amused him that Harry would be so upset over something he did. He was no fool; he knew Harry was dangerous when he was angry, but the idea that something so small as Draco sleeping upstairs caused such a reaction filled Draco with hope.

Harry continued to dice the brown roots at a ferocious pace.

Draco began to rack his brain, trying to think of a reason why Harry would be upset over his spending the night and the better part of the previous day in the upstairs bedroom. Then it occurred to him: Harry had trusted him with quite a lot the day before, and Draco had... run away. The blond sighed and went around to sit at the small table in the kitchen.

"Harry," he said calmly. The other boy tensed, but stopped his assault on the roots. "Do you think I ran away because of what you told me?"

The chopping slowed, but Harry was silent. Draco took the response, or lack thereof, as confirmation.

"Actually, I want to thank you for confiding in me yesterday. I know how hard it was, and I want to help you."

Harry stopped moving.

"Do you think I'd try to find a way out because I know about the prophecy?" Draco took a deep breath. "If you do, I think you should know I'm not scared of a prophecy."

Harry looked up briefly before averting his eyes and wiping sweat off his brow. "There's no need to lie. It's okay if you want to leave me."

Draco felt his heart plummet and he wanted to go to Harry, but couldn't. "You know, just because some nut says you have to kill the Dark Lord yourself, doesn't mean you have to. And I refuse to think you might die because of a prophecy Sibyll Trelawney made... of all people, honestly."

Harry couldn't look at the blond. Instead, he scooped the roots into a bowl and moved back to the stove.

Draco stared at his back. "Yesterday, I went upstairs because I needed to process what you were telling me. If you think I'm scared -- of course I'm scared. I'm scared of what will happen to me if you die, but I'm not going to run away... Where would I even go?"

Draco noticed that Harry tensed slightly at his question and he thought he knew exactly what Harry was thinking. He sighed and threw the other boy a scathing look. Were they really still stuck on the Dark Lord? He took a deep breath. "Do you really think I'd go running back to the Dark Lord because of that? Do you really think I see that as an option right now?"

Harry's shoulders sagged; he was stirring slowly.

Draco could feel anger swelling in his gut. Why wasn't Harry saying anything? Couldn't he at least argue with Draco? Wasn't that how they had always solved differences?

Losing his temper, Draco began to yell. "What is it going to take to get it through your thick head that I LOVE YOU? Every day, every single day I feel more in love with you and I can't stop it!" Draco could feel hot tears running down his face. "So you don't need to worry about me running away. I know you don't want to believe it, but I won't betray you."

Harry's head was down; Draco could see no reaction at all from the boy. He thought of moving towards him, but he knew he had to wait for Harry to turn around and face him.

After a long silence, Harry turned off the Muggle stove and set the potion aside. He inclined his head slightly; Draco noticed the nearly unperceivable nod and relaxed.

"I'm sorry," Harry said thickly. "I just thought..." He laughed nervously and turned slightly towards Draco. Anxiety was visible across Harry's face. The laughter died quickly and left Harry looking sad and vulnerable.

His voice was low and strained as he began to explain. "When I told Ron and Hermione about the prophecy I thought they wouldn't want anything to do with me once they knew," Harry said, not looking at Draco. "It's not that I didn't trust them, it was just that I don't really expect anyone to stick around. I never had friends growing up, you know, and..."

Harry smiled darkly. "With you, I thought because of the bond, you'd be obligated to stay. I know that's an awful thing to say, and I wish I didn't think it. Then after we'd finished, you just went upstairs and didn't come back down; you missed dinner and everything. It hurt thinking that even you wouldn't stay after you knew."

Draco looked away. "You were right; I can't leave, but before you start pitying me, it's not just because of the bond. There are magical ways to get around the bond if one chooses. I can't leave, because I do not want to return to the Dark Lord. I refuse to go through another year scared out of my wits. I was always afraid that someone would find out what I was doing and arrest me, or that I'd fail and the Dark Lord would kill me." He stopped, his face growing hot. He threw a furtive look at Harry and found the other boy watching him.

Draco reddened under the scrutiny and moved towards the small table before saying, "Ever since I left Hogwarts, I have felt safe. I felt safe even before you had accepted me because I was away from the Dark Lord." Draco hoped this would appease Harry, that Harry would not feel like Draco was only there because he was part-veela. He had nearly accepted Dumbledore's offer of protection the night the old man died, and they both knew it.

Harry moved closer to him and Draco stood still. Draco's words triggered something in Harry that pulled him to Draco--that made him want desperately to forgive the other boy. They stood an arm length away from each other for a good period of time before Harry shook himself out of his reverie and took a seat at the table. He was breathing quickly and couldn't bring himself to look at the part-veela.

"What were you boiling?" Draco asked finally. Their conversation was over for now; Harry looked too tired for it to continue, but Draco knew they would have to finish it sooner or later.

Harry looked at him, blushed and looked down at his hands. "Just a healing potion. I promised Hermione I'd make as many potions as I could. We're trying to stock up."

Draco nodded. "That's smart."

Harry looked up at the wall in front of him. "Tonks owled earlier; she'll be by this evening with our furniture."

Draco was delighted by this news. "Oh good! I can't wait to have a real bed; cushioning charms just aren't the same as a decent bed."

Still looking away from him, Harry nodded in agreement.

Ever since he had walked in to find Harry angry with him, a buzzing in his gut had nagged at Draco, telling him to make it up to Harry, to make it better. It had finally subsided when Harry had come over to the table, but now it was back again and felt even fiercer with the nearness of the other man.

It took no more than two minutes for Draco to snap. He stood and yanked Harry out of his chair; Their lips met and Draco pressed so hard and eagerly against Harry that the other boy let out a frightened squeal. The fact that he was touching Harry alone made up for the lack of response he was receiving from the bespectacled boy. It took Harry a while to gather his wits and push Draco away. Once they were apart, Draco gripped the table hard and tried to steady his heart rate.

"What was that for?" Harry asked. His eyes were dazed.

"Didn't you read that book?" Draco asked between gasps of air. "You were angry with me, so I needed some reassurance."

Harry stared at him. "But we bonded! All that stuff stops once we bond."

"No," Draco said, shaking his head and still not trusting himself to look at Harry. His body was screaming at him to yank the boy back into his arms. "We're not bound yet."

Harry's eyes widened at the realization. "Oh. Right. Forgot. Sorry."

Draco nodded and licked his lips. He sat down heavily and smiled at Harry. "Are we okay now? Because if you're still angry with me, I'm going to have to do that again."

Harry paled. "'M fine."

Draco nodded; before long, the smile melted from his lips and he sat gazing at the cream colored wall in front of him.

"I'm never going to get used to this veela thing," Harry said quietly, watching Draco.

Draco sighed. They sat in peaceful silence as he lost himself in thoughts of veela and Harry. Speaking to the wall, he said, "Did you know that among veela, Destined veela -- the ones with soul mates -- are the rarest? If they are full blooded veela, their mortality rate is very low, especially when their soul mates are not veela."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, his eyes on Draco's fine features.

"I don't feel it that much, but a full blooded veela's life revolves around its soul mate. If the mate is unhappy, the veela thinks it is because of them. They are not good enough; they have made their mate unhappy. If you flat out reject me, I will get depressed and if I don't take any potions, I'll probably off myself... but it'll take years before it gets that bad, if it ever happens. Full blooded veela kill themselves if they so much as think their mate is rejecting them. There have even been accounts of veela offing themselves after they bonded with their mate because they think they have failed to please them. It still matters to them. They lose themselves because of it."

Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers when Draco finally looked at him.

They locked eyes and Draco swallowed before continuing, "Once a pair has bonded, it's supposed to balance out the magic. Once we're bonded, you'll feel obligated to me, just as I do now. I won't feel the need to please you as much anymore, so that'll be nice, but we'd never be able to cheat on one another, or leave one another because we both will know no one will ever love us as truly and no one will ever make us as happy."

Harry broke the eye contact and Draco sighed. "But like I said, Destined veela are very rare. I still don't understand how I became one. The veela blood on my father's side is very weak. In fact, my parents didn't even test my blood when I was born."

Harry hadn't taken his eyes off of him. "So, how'd you know?"

Draco shrugged. He looked at Harry briefly before returning to his wall. "I felt it. We all hit puberty and all my mates were running after girls and I just couldn't be bothered. Pansy went after me, and I thought I might as well pretend. At least that way no one would think I was gay. And then, by the end of fourth year, you were all I thought about and I tried to focus it into hate. And it worked -- well, until last year, when I couldn't even hex you on the train."

Draco lost himself in his memories and Harry became very lost in Draco's handsome face. He had watched the pointed features so often in the past and was surprised about how much he knew about Draco. There was a small scar--a thin line--near his right ear that was barely visible. As Harry studied this scar, the realization hit him of just how much he had watched Draco in the past, and not just because he thought the blond was up to no good. Was it because he had known Draco was his soul mate? He wanted to ask Draco, but when he tried the question came out as a croak. "Is this the reason I've always been... Well, it's like--I'm aware of you and sometimes without realizing...?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "It could be. It probably is. I don't know."

Harry ran a hand through his disheveled hair and laughed. "I always knew when you were up to something."

They laughed but Draco sobered quickly. "Last year, why did you want to be the one to catch me?" he asked carefully.

Harry shrugged. "You were my enemy. We were always trying to best each other. I didn't _want_ to catch you; I had to. You were doing something wrong and I had to stop you."

"You don't think that it's strange that you connected me to the necklace and everything when no one else did? I did notice that Weasley and Granger weren't following me."

"They didn't believe me."

"No one did," Draco said simply. "Yet, it was true. And even Snape didn't understand how you had figured it out. He hadn't. Dumbledore had told him your suspicions. He told me I must have been very careless, if even you could figure it out, but I didn't think that were true. I think it was because you knew me."

Harry shook his head. "Even if it had been somebody else, I would have done the same thing." Even as he said this, Harry did not sound very confident.

Draco shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

They were silent until Draco found the amicable air irresistible. "At Mrs. Figg's, you told me you didn't much think about Ginny Weasley. But that's not true, is it? You were all over her last year."

Harry sighed. "I was, and Ginny is still one of my closest friends. The feelings I had for her are complicated, I think. I'm still trying to sort it all out because during the same time I was after you, I had these feelings for Ginny and I keep thinking it doesn't make sense because uh," he stopped.

Draco saw his cheeks turned a deep red and in turn, he saw red.

Harry tried to continue. "When Ginny and I kissed... it was nice, but I never saw sparks."

Draco wasn't looking at him. "And?"

Harry caught sight of the look on Draco's face and quickly tried to clarify. "I never saw sparks because Ginny and I work better as friends. But, in all honesty, there was only one person I was obsessed with last year." Harry finished the sentence very quickly, but that didn't stop the grin that spread across Draco's face.

No one said anything after that. Harry was far too embarrassed to look up from where his hands were resting in his lap and Draco was far too elated to be able to speak.

"Do you like me?" Draco asked finally, his voice weak.

Harry shrugged and after a moment's pause said, "I can't tell you one way or another. I'm trying to figure it out. The soul mate thing changed everything. Had I been left on my own I probably would have thought Ginny was as good as it gets. I never would have looked for anything more. But with you, it's like there's a chance for something great, isn't there?"

Draco nodded, gazing adoringly at Harry.

Harry shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "I've already chosen you, so if that means that I like you, then I guess I do. But we've never been friends. So, I don't think I can say I like you until I get to know you."

Draco nodded again. "Sounds fair. What do you want to know?"

Harry seemed at a loss for words; he appeared surprised by Draco's quick compliance. "Well, to start, what do you think about me? I mean, is there any of the old Draco left?"

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry. "Of course there is. Haven't you heard what I've said? This isn't something that happened overnight."

Harry shut his eyes, exasperated. "You say that, but you also said that you tried to use your feelings for me to fuel your hatred of me."

Draco shook his head. "That's not what I said at all. I said I didn't understand my feelings so I mistook them for hatred."

"Still, you hated me."

"No, dunce, I liked you, I just hadn't figured it out. And when I did, I denied it. Do you want me to say that nothing about you annoys me? Because a lot about you annoys me. I haven't changed."

Harry smiled, satisfied. "What about the war?"

"What about it? I've already told you I don't want to be the Dark Lord's servant. I'm completely on your side. I want to get rid of Voldemort."

"But you still hate Muggle-borns and half-bloods?"

Draco sighed. "Obviously not halfbloods," he said, looking pointedly at Harry, "but I'm still a proud pure-blood. However, that doesn't mean I want to kill Muggle-borns or that I hate them, per se."

Harry nodded. "And your father? You've always looked up to him. If he were to escape Azkaban..."

Draco cut in, annoyed, "I'd what? Turn coat and leave you?" He shook his head. "I know you think I was always copying my father and never had any opinions of my own, but every boy looks up to his father. And the truth is, he wasn't a great father. If he gets out of Azkaban, he'll go back to the Dark Lord, and I will cut all ties with him."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the fierce declaration, but said nothing.

"Why haven't you told your friends?" Draco asked.

Harry looked up, alarmed; he hadn't really expected Draco to ask him any questions. "Well, I haven't seen much of them. And I know it would be difficult for them to understand, so I'd rather wait until _I_ got a better understanding of what's going on."

Draco nodded in approval.

"Is there anyone you'd like to contact, Draco?" Harry asked, looking for all the world apologetic about not asking before.

Draco shook his head. He thought of his mother and knew it would be too dangerous for everyone involved if he tried. "No. For me, there is no one left."

Harry understood and said no more.

Draco studied him for a while. He wanted to kiss the pout off of Harry's lips and rub away the lines under his eyes. Sighing, he turned back to the wall. "Why don't we make some more potions before lunch, and afterwards, you can tell me more about the Dark Lord, okay?"

Harry nodded and they both stood from the table. Instinctively, Draco drew Harry to him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Harry's lips were still just as chapped as they were an hour before when Draco had stolen his kiss. This time, he barely touched the rough pink lips before pulling away.

Harry stood there for a moment; his eyes were closed, his breathing labored.

"Is that okay?" Draco asked softly.

Harry nodded slowly and opened his eyes. He looked younger and more vulnerable than Draco had ever seen him look.

They made potions through the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon. Though Harry had been brilliant at potions the year before, he seemed to have more difficulty out of Slughorn's classrooms.

When Draco called him on it, he paled and began chopping boomslang clumsily. "Oh, uh, I had a different book then."

Draco questioned him further and Harry finally confessed to having used Professor Snape's book last year, with all of Snape's notes. Though Draco was a little miffed at having been bested all year by someone with no real talent, they continued in companionable silence.

After a late lunch, Harry brought out the Pensieve and they ventured through Harry's memories of Dumbledore and his lessons. Draco tried to take in all the details and he and Harry spoke very little throughout the experience.

Once they had left Little Haggleton and the London orphanage, Harry began to make dinner while Draco went over what he had learned.

"I still can't believe the Dark Lord is a half-blood."

Harry turned sharply, surprised and a little offended. "Why?"

Draco jumped onto the kitchen counter and shrugged. "It's just, I would have thought my father would've mentioned it to me. He was in the habit of speaking poorly of the Dark Lord when not in his presence. And before the Dark Lord came back in fourth year, my father always said he was a pure-blood. That he was a descendent of Slytherin. And that it had been a pity he had been raised in an orphanage rather than a proper wizarding home."

Harry shrugged. "How would your father have known? He probably bought whatever Voldemort told him."

Draco shook his head. "But my father studied genealogy. He knew all of the pure-blood lines. He would have known the Gaunt line very well."

"Maybe he chose to ignore it," said Harry dismissively.

"Still... it's surprising, isn't it? Someone that dark, that powerful, having a Muggle father and going on a campaign to kill Muggles and Muggle-borns. Absurd."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. Muggles can be just as evil and powerful as wizards. Besides, I think you're missing the point. The Dark Lord isn't really concerned with killing Muggles and Muggle-borns. He seeks power and immortality. I think going after Muggles is just a ploy to get him in with powerful purebloods. He was very charming and he knew how to get what he wanted. If he wanted people to do what he wanted, he had to give them a reason to do it. What better reason that the purification of the wizarding race?"

Draco looked on in deep thought. He watched the birds outside the window for a while before turning back to Harry.

"Hagrid came to tell you about Hogwarts, right? Like Dumbledore did with Riddle?"

Harry nodded. "He came on my birthday and took me to Diagon Alley."

"Did you think, like Riddle did, that you were special?"

Harry looked equal parts offended and embarrassed by the question. "No. I never thought I was special. I told Hagrid I couldn't be a wizard and that he had the wrong boy."

Draco smirked at him. "And you didn't know anything about magic?"

Harry shook his head. "I knew I had somehow managed to make my hair grow back once and that I had made a glass wall disappear another time, but I never thought much about being special or anything like that."

"That's the thing I keep wondering about. Your Muggle relatives treated you awful, right? And Riddle didn't seem to have it too bad at the orphanage; he talked about walking around London by himself and being independent. He looked well fed and everything, not like you were that day in Diagon Alley."

Harry wasn't following. "So?"

"Well, you should have been the one who was evil and resentful, shouldn't you have been? If we're not born evil, shouldn't the Dursleys have made you evil? And Riddle should have been a shy, reserved boy."

Harry disagreed. "But that's not it at all; I hated the Dursleys but I didn't think that was a good enough reason to hate everyone else. I made that choice. And a lot of it is personality, but Riddle still could have been a decent person. Even if he did have the Gaunts as relatives, that didn't make him evil and nasty. He chose to abuse his magic and to be a bastard."

"Right," said Draco, "but why?"

"I don't know. I guess because I knew deep inside that someone loved me, and Riddle didn't have anyone who loved him."

Draco shook his head. "But you didn't know about your parents."

"My mother died to save me," Harry said softly. "Her love kept me safe all those years. I may have never thought being able to talk to a snake made me special, but I never doubted that my parents had loved me."

"So you think if Merope had stayed alive and raised her child, Riddle would have been a decent person?"

Harry opened the oven and pulled out the casserole he had made. "It might have made a difference. As it was, all he knew was that his mother had died having him and his father had never cared enough to find him. He'd been abandoned. I wasn't."

He brought the prepared food over to the table just as the door was swung open. Harry watched Tonks come waltzing in with two giant boxes floating beside her. Harry looked out of the window to see that the neighborhood had gone pitch black.


	9. The Other Defector

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Nine**

The Other Defector

--

"Wotcha, Harry! Draco!" called Tonks as she brought the boxes to rest. "I've got two more out here, come give me a hand, Draco."

Draco followed her out onto the lawn where two more large boxes were sitting in the middle of the yard.

"Had to use a Portkey," she said, pointing her wand at the box closest to the door. "Tricky getting all of them here in one go, but I managed. They've already been shrunk, you see."

Draco levitated the other box and followed her back into the house. Harry had set the table for three and went over to help Draco open the boxes to have a peek. In each box, they found the furniture for a different room in the house, all set up and waiting for directions.

Harry had to drag Draco away from the sitting room, where he had started commanding the beds to march up the stairs.

"Is there more?" Harry asked, staring at the amount of furniture now occupying the sitting room.

Tonks shook her head, smiling brightly. "Got it all here in one go. Lovely, isn't it?"

Harry noticed her hair was no longer mousy brown, but a vibrant orange. "So, has Lupin been found?"

Tonks immediately brightened. "I forgot to tell you! As it turns out, he hadn't been captured at all!"

Draco and Harry both looked astonished.

Tonks continued, "In fact, he managed to penetrate Voldemort's inner circle and that was why he wasn't able to contact us, which is understandable. But he's fine. He's been asking about you, and I've promised to bring him the next time he's able to get away."

Harry thanked her and turned his attention towards Draco, who had seated himself at the table facing the dining room so that he could continue to command the furniture. Harry watched in amusement as two of the wardrobes collided as they went up the stairs.

"Try to keep the furniture in one piece. It was very difficult to move, you know," said Tonks, also watching in amusement.

After dinner, Tonks reached into her cloak and pulled out a bundle of mail. "Your mail... it's been going to Headquarters. There are letters in there from Ron and Hermione. And there's something I have to talk to you about before I leave."

She sounded so serious that Draco stopped barking orders at the furniture.

"Remus had assistance penetrating Voldemort's inner circle--it's not an easy task."

Draco held his breath and Harry immediately asked, "Who helped him?"

Tonks looked apologetic for a moment before answering, "Snape, Harry."

She gave Harry a moment to digest this before swallowing thickly and continuing, "Snape helped get him close enough to gain very valuable information." Harry was tense and ready to argue, but Tonks pressed on. "Remus thinks he's still on our side, and as Snape is requesting to be allowed back in the Order, he thinks it should be allowed. However, the Order wants your consent."

Harry nodded and looked to Draco for advice.

Draco was watching him; Harry's inquiring gaze startled him. He recovered in time to say, "Snape saved my life more than once and he knew I was your soul mate. He should have killed me; he shouldn't have sent me to you when we left Hogwarts, but he did. I have to trust him."

Harry nodded. "And Remus trusts him?" he asked Tonks, who nodded.

Harry looked away from them both. "Make sure he gives you all the information he knows before you allow him back."

Tonks shook her head. "Can't, Harry. He'll only speak to the two of you."

"Figures." Harry sighed. "And you really think what he has to say is worth hearing?"

The witch nodded.

"When?"

"Soon," answered Tonks quickly. "I can send a message tomorrow, but Harry, I think it'll be best if you go alone. Only a few at Headquarters know about Draco, and it's safer if it stays that way."

Harry looked to Draco, who nodded. Harry let out a frustrated snort. "It's all settled then, Snape gets off scot-free and even gets to set his own rules."

Tonks and Draco exchanged worried looks. They were expecting an explosion to follow, but Harry managed to keep himself under control. Once they were sure Harry was all right, Tonks said her goodbyes and left, promising to return the next day.

Draco went into the dining room to finish arranging the furniture when, to his surprise, Harry joined him. "Where does this table go?"

"It's for ou-the master bedroom; just send it up the stairs." Harry obeyed and within an hour, all the furniture in the house had found its place. The old table they had been using was vanished and Draco set about putting away linens and laying down rugs.

At around midnight, Draco hung the last portrait and headed up the stairs. Harry watched him and wondered vaguely if he was meant to follow. Draco paused at the top of the stairs and Harry took this as a cue to follow. There were butterflies in Harry's stomach as he entered the master bedroom. He had feared Draco would decorate it in green and silver. Instead, he found a room decorated in dark blue and white. Harry sat down uneasily on the large four-poster bed and began to pull off his shoes.

Draco had gone into the bathroom, and when he came out he was dressed for bed. He looked anxiously at Harry before moving to the other side of the bed. Harry undid the buttons on his trousers and pulled his shirt over his head. He found all his clothes had been neatly put away. He quickly yanked a pair of pajamas out of a drawer and threw them on. Draco looked disdainfully at the clothes scattered on Harry's side. Silently, he banished everything away.

Harry laughed and set his glasses down on the bedside table. He slid under the covers and found a warm body waiting for him.

Draco was delighted with his luck. He had kissed Harry twice, their furniture had been delivered, and now they were sleeping in their own bed. He had never intended for them to have separate rooms, though the house did have three bedrooms and all of them were now furnished. He would even have settled for Harry choosing to spend the first night in one of the other rooms. In fact, he had thought Harry would have needed more of a push and more time before agreeing to permanently share a room and a bed with the veela.

He threw an arm over Harry and the other boy made no move to pull away, so Draco took it as permission to move closer.

Resolutely pretending nothing at all had changed, Harry drifted off to sleep. After all, they'd been sleeping together for more than a month now and it made no difference whatsoever that they were now sleeping in _their_ bed.

---

One week later, Draco woke up pressed against Harry's body. It was, he thought, the only way to wake up. Harry was hard against his thigh and Draco couldn't resist moving his leg against the hardness. Harry moaned and his eyes snapped open. Draco quickly tried to make it appear as though he were only trying to disentangle himself, apologizing for waking the other boy.

Harry looked bewildered and a bit disappointed. It took him a moment before he was fully alert and sitting up in the bed.

"I need the bathroom," Harry said calmly, and Draco was pleased that he was not embarrassed to walk across the room, his erection evident. He chalked it up to Harry only having just awoken.

Harry walked out of the restroom twenty minutes later, bathed and slightly sheepish.

Draco, whose bladder was full, ignored him and sprinted into the bathroom. Harry's pajamas were pooled on the floor in front of the sink. As Draco picked them up to put them in the hamper, he held the shirt to his nose and breathed in the scent he was so attracted to -- soap, rain and chocolate.

He showered quickly and ventured out to find Harry on top of the now neatly made bed. The Pensieve was sitting on a table not far away. Draco hesitantly moved towards the bed. He sat beside Harry, but the other boy wasn't watching him; he was staring at the Pensieve.

"What I have to tell you today is all that I know about defeating Voldemort."

Draco blinked and stared at Harry. He was surprised to hear anyone speak so calmly about defeating the darkest wizard that ever lived. He reminded himself that this was Harry. The Chosen One never followed standard protocol.

Harry leaned against the bedpost and sighed. "There are still a lot of gaps in what I know and I'm really not sure I'll ever be able to fill them in."

Draco nodded and continued to stare at Harry.

Harry looked at him finally, and smiled weakly. "Ready?"

Draco nodded again, looking expectant.

"Well... Before Voldemort had graduated, he had started to look into ways of making himself immortal. It was during this research that he discovered Horcruxes. Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

Draco bit his lip. "Sort of."

Harry swallowed. "Professor Slughorn was the Potions professor in Voldemort's time, and of course, Voldemort was in the Slug Club. I think he was one of Slughorn's favorites. An attractive boy with all that potential -- I'm sure Slughorn was in love with him at the time. But anyway, Voldemort asked Slughorn about Horcruxes and Slughorn was stupid enough to tell him. I think Voldemort had already known what they were; he just wanted advice on the optimal number to create. Seven, he decided, would be the most powerful."

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew Horcruxes were supposed to make a person immortal by storing a piece of their soul. If Harry was right, Voldemort had seven chunks of his soul out there keeping him alive. Could Harry really find and destroy this seven? Wouldn't that be what would have to be done?

Harry directed a question at him, snapping him out of his thoughts, "Do you remember how Voldemort had collected all that junk at the orphanage?" Draco nodded. "Well, he had already begun a new collection at Hogwarts. I want to show you the memory of what Voldemort did before his sixth year and what Slughorn told him about Horcruxes."

With that said, they ventured through Harry's memories of memories. Draco tried not to think about how, if he had killed Dumbledore, he would have had something in common with Voldemort at sixteen. Both would have been murderers while still in school. Draco listened to Dumbledore's description of the cold crimes Voldemort had committed. They then watched the charming Tom Riddle wheedle information out of Professor Slughorn.

Once the memory was over, Draco was bubbling with curiosity. "Did he make one Horcrux, then? Or did he make all seven?"

Harry nodded. "He made them, all right. I told you he had started a new collection. The first object in this group was that old ring; the second and third were objects he found after leaving Hogwarts."

Harry turned back towards the Pensieve. "Ready?" he asked Draco, who nodded.

They ventured into the memory of Hepzibah Smith and then through the memory of Dumbledore's theories about what the Horcruxes were.

When they were done, Draco looked bewildered. "You know, I've been meaning to ask. Why would someone that looked like that want to end up looking like... well, a dirty wrinkled snake?"

Harry laughed. "Guess he doesn't care if he's got no chance in hell of getting laid."

Draco shook his head. "Who'd want to live forever looking like that? Does he think after he becomes immortal he can work on looking mortal?"

Harry laughed, and then yawned. His head was swimming after having to relive his lessons with Dumbledore. He still had so many unanswered questions.

"I'm hungry," Draco said, breaking the other out of his reverie.

Laughing again, the dark-haired boy left to fish for food.

---

Tonks arrived after lunch. Harry looked guiltily at Draco before following her out of the front door.

"Listen, Harry," Tonks grabbed his wrist as soon as the door had shut behind them. "I didn't want to tell you this in front of Draco, but do you remember that Narcissa Malfoy had given us the tip about the attack on your birthday?"

Harry nodded, looking grave.

"Well, it was legit and we were able to prevent any substantial damage. She came to us yesterday, asking for safety and we sort of... took her in. She couldn't come into Headquarters without us knowing her true allegiances, obviously, but we set up for the night in a safe location."

Harry nodded, feeling torn between what he thought Draco would want and what he felt was best.

"We need to know what you want us to do, Harry."

Harry felt overwhelmed. First Snape, now Narcissa Malfoy -- why was he the one making all the hard decisions? When had he become the head of the Order?

Harry swallowed thickly and looked at the window behind Tonks, where a light was on and he knew Draco was still sitting in the living room, reading.

"Do we know she's not lying?" Harry asked, his voice stiff.

Tonks pulled at her hair nervously, and it flickered between black and white. "She consented to be questioned under Veritaserum and Snape confirmed this morning that the Dark Lord is after her."

"Draco would want her to be brought here," Harry said after a minute's thought.

Tonks nodded. "Is that what you want me to do?"

Harry looked away from the window. "No. Take her to Headquarters, but make sure she doesn't hear anything too important. I'll tell Draco and he'll be able to see her if he'd like, but she's not allowed here."

Tonks nodded and they Apparated away.

They walked silently to the door of Grimmauld Place. Harry felt his stomach turn as he took in the sight of the house. It reminded him of Sirius and everything else he had lost.

Ron and Hermione were two of the first to greet them. Harry had not seen them since Percy's funeral and he knew they had been expecting him to join them at Headquarters as soon as he turned of age.

"Harry!" Hermione said, throwing herself at him. Harry laughed and patted her back, catching Ron's eye over her shoulder. Ron waved.

"Where have you been, Harry?" Hermione whispered hurriedly, not letting him release her.

"I'll tell you later."

She grabbed his wrist and squeezed tightly; he put his right hand behind his back hurriedly, lest she see the bracelet he wore. "Don't think about leaving before you do." Her voice was firm and Harry knew she was worried and determined. He nodded.

"Harry, we need to go down to the kitchen," Tonks interrupted and Hermione pulled away from her friend. Ron nodded to Harry and the dark-haired boy followed Tonks down to the basement, his heart full of his friends. He felt guiltier than he had all summer because they had given him so much and he had ignored them.

Once they entered the kitchen, Tonks disappeared, leaving him alone.

Snape looked up from his seat; he had been sitting alone at the kitchen table, with Mrs. Weasley watching him from behind the counter. She, too, left the room.

"Potter," he said evenly.

Harry inclined his head. "Snape."

"How is he?" Snape asked immediately after the door had shut.

"He's fine."

Snape looked at the bracelet on his wrist. "I see you have consented. Smart choice, Potter."

Harry's eyes narrowed at Snape. "Was that why you asked to speak to me--to ask about Draco and give your approval? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have never solicited your approval, and I'm not about to start."

Snape snarled at him. "You seem to be as stupid as ever, Potter. But I do not have time for your insolence today; I have a matter which I would like to discuss with you."

Harry crossed his arms around his chest and looked expectantly at Snape.

"The Dark Lord wants to strike hard at you now that Dumbledore is go--"

"Because you killed him."

Snape clenched his fist. "For once in your life, Potter, be quiet and listen."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Snape, his jaw clenching furiously.

"He believes you to be weak, and I must say, I'm not sure I disagree."

Harry snorted disbelievingly.

"... He believes Hogwarts to be completely defenseless now, and plans to take it and use it as his own headquarters. This must be prevented at all cost."

All the air seemed to escape Harry's lungs and he gasped for it. "You're lying."

"No, Potter. I am not."

"I don't believe you!"

"Believe what you will; this is what the Dark Lord plans. Now, are you ready to stop him?"

Harry found himself on the verge of tears and for a moment he forgot who he was talking to. "No."

Snape looked incredulously at him. "Well, that's never stopped you before."

Harry looked startled. "What am I supposed to do?" The question was not meant for Snape.

Snape answered anyway. "I would suggest increasing the Order's presence, as well as the Ministry's. The magical world cannot afford to lose Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, deep in thought.

"There is another matter I wish to discuss with you, Potter. The headmaster had informed me of your search and I have been doing some searching on Albus' behalf. I believe I have found the last object."

Snape waited, expecting a response, but Harry was still and quiet.

"The only known surviving relic of Rowena Ravenclaw," continued Snape after a moment, "is an iron torch engraved with her family crest. The torch had been passed down through the Ravenclaw line until it was stolen nearly thirty-five years ago from Tobias Prewett."

Harry processed this information slowly before looking at Snape again. "Is that all you know?"

Snape sneered. "It is more, I am sure, than you would have found on your own."

Harry shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that, Snape. I meant, do you know how it was stolen or by who?"

Snape looked coldly at him. "Tobias was killed at the time of the robbery, so it is not possible to ask him who stole it."

Harry nodded, not at all surprised. "Who was framed for the murder?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "As it happens, his wife was convicted for it. They had been having a row, and she acted in a moment of anger. She confessed to it all."

Harry nodded again, deep in concentration.

"Is this useful to you? Dumbledore did not divulge why the information was necessary, but he did ask me to look into it."

"It's, uh..." Harry croaked, "very useful. Thank you for it."

Snape nodded and swept out of the room. Giving it a moment's thought, Harry ran after him. "Prof-Snape."

"Yes?"

"Narcissa Malfoy will be brought to Headquarters today. Do you think I should trust her?"

Snape was surprised by the question; he took his time before inclining his head slightly. "Yes," he said gruffly, "I believe Narcissa is someone you can trust."

Harry thanked him again and stood to watch him leave.


	10. A Little Bit Closer

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Ten**

A Little Bit Closer

--

Hearing the door shut, Ron and Hermione came pelting down the stairs and pulled Harry into the drawing room, locking and spelling the door behind them.

"What did he want, Harry?" Hermione asked anxiously as they took their seats around the window.

Harry looked between the eager faces of his friends and felt tears in his eyes. "I know what the other Horcrux is."

Hermione squealed and hugged him. "Oh, Harry, I'm so glad!"

Ron thumped him on the back and beamed.

Once they had all calmed down, Hermione wanted to know all the details and declared she would do all the research she could into the death of Tobias Prewett.

After the conversation and all the details were exhausted, they fell into an awkward silence. Ron and Hermione obviously had something they wanted to ask Harry about, and the boy in question just hoped no one would ask him where he was living.

Biting her lip and giving Ron a pressing look, Hermione finally broke the tension. "So, Harry... you've left the Dursleys', right?"

Harry swallowed his fear and nodded.

"Mate," Ron tried to assist Hermione, "we heard Tonks is your Secret-Keeper... we're not upset or anything. We're just worried about you and everything."

Harry sighed. "I know."

"We just want to make sure you know we're still in this together..." Hermione said, her voice tight. "We_ are_ still in this together, aren't we?"

Harry nodded, not looking at either of them. "We are. Look, there's something I haven't been telling you. And once you know, I think you'll understand why I've been distant lately."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look but said nothing. He fidgeted in discomfort.

"Well," Harry continued finally and ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I'm sorry about that but it's been necessary. The thing is..." He stopped and took a long, deep breath. "I have more than one reason to trust Snape. He, uh..." Harry wasn't able to find the words. "I think I might just be in his debt because, you see, he sent Draco Malfoy to Little Whinging after they left Hogwarts."

Ron exploded first. "DRACO MALFOY IS IN LITTLE WHINGING?"

Harry closed his eyes, trying his hardest to remain calm. "Don't get upset. You don't understand. He's not what he appears. And no, he's not in Little Whinging. He's living with me."

Silence reigned while Harry's friends adjusted to the fresh revelation. Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Harry, is that safe? I mean, you were the one who was convinced he was up to no good all year."

"Yes, and he _was_ up to no good. He nearly killed Katie Bell and Ron. I haven't forgotten. I just... There's more going on here than that. He's uh, well... he's part-veela."

Ron's face grew redder and Hermione grew more and more tense.

"A Destined veela, in fact. Or, part, at least." Harry couldn't help blushing. "And Destined veela..."

"...Have soul mates!" Ron finished, his voice incredulous.

"Yes," agreed Harry.

Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry. It's not true. You can't be... not you and Malfoy!"

Harry sighed, covering his face with his hands. "Look, you guys wouldn't believe me when I said Malfoy was up to something last year, so I don't expect you to believe me now but I trust him and it's because of Snape and Dumbledore that Draco and I were able to become... well, whatever we are. And I'm bound to him--" he held up his wrist, letting the silver bracelet dangle before their eyes, "--and I think I might someday love him."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried, coming towards him with glassy eyes. "I know you've always wanted someone to love who would love you unconditionally, but Malfoy... how do you know he's not setting a trap for you?"

Harry turned away from her. "I trust him. Doesn't that count for anything, Hermione?"

He heard her sharp intake of breath before she said, "No. I'm sorry, Harry. It's not enough."

Harry nodded, expecting no more. He was disappointed by their lack of faith in him, but he knew that, had the tables been turned, he would not have been quick to forgive Draco. "You guys are my family, and that's why I needed to tell you. I just hope that in time, you'll be able to accept him, because he's not going to go away." With his head down and his shoulders slumped, Harry walked to the door.

"Hey, mate." Harry turned at the sound of Ron's stiff voice.

"Yeah?"

"You were right about Malfoy before, so... look, I'm willing to trust you, all right?" said the boy gruffly. "It'll just take time... to get used to-- him."

"Thanks, Ron," said Harry.

He looked to Hermione, who nodded as well. "Just don't... just stay safe, Harry."

---

Draco was delighted when he heard the sound of the front door open for he had spent all afternoon preparing dinner and Harry was right on time.

When Harry walked in the room, his eyes were downcast and he looked worn out. However, he brightened at the sight and smells that greeted him in the kitchen. The new dining table was laden with a lavish meal. A roast sat in the middle of the table, surrounded by vegetables and a variety of side dishes. He looked up at Draco's hopeful face and smiled radiantly. And then to Draco's utter astonishment, Harry walked away from the table towards where the blond was standing.

He smiled sadly at Draco and took his chin in his hand; tremors ran through Draco as he waited for Harry to move. With a soft sigh, Harry closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Draco's. He wrapped his arms around the fair boy and drew them tightly together. Draco melted into the embrace and waited. Harry pressed his face into the curve of Draco's neck.

"I wish we were different," Harry admitted, sounding even more exhausted than he felt.

Draco nodded and put a hand on Harry's back. He tried to rub the tension out of Harry's body, while at the same time praying that Harry would never let him go.

"I wish I could just forget the last six years," Harry continued, his lips brushing the exposed skin on Draco's shoulder. "Then I could just let go and give in to this."

Draco leaned his head to the side, resting it on Harry's. "I never expected you would," he whispered.

Harry nodded. "I know. But you don't know how much I just want to feel like... like I have someone who loves me."

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Silence overtook them, yet they remained embraced. Draco rubbed Harry's back soothingly, trying his best to offer support and comfort. Harry's eyes were closed and his senses were so overcome by the smell and feel of Draco against him that he felt glued to the other boy, and simply unable to let go.

When Harry finally pulled away, Draco didn't watch the other boy wipe at his eyes, and he missed the wistful look that was thrown his way. He didn't catch it, because he was too busy feeling lost without the physical contact. He concentrated on pulling himself together and, in seconds, was preparing for dinner again.

Realizing that the food had been sitting out for far too long, Draco felt grateful that he had had the presence of mind to put warming charms on the plates. When he pulled the lid off of the dishes, they were all still steaming.

The two young men sat at the table and ate in awkward silence. Draco wanted desperately to say something but didn't know what. He wanted to say he didn't care how long it took, that he would wait forever, and at the same time he wanted to convince Harry that he _could_ just give in. They would work it all out eventually, he decided finally. They had eternity. After much consternation, he settled for picking at his food with a longing expression on his face.

At the end of the meal, after Harry levitated all the dishes to the sink and set the soap to work, the boys returned to the table, to sit across from each other in wretched silence.

Until. "I told Ron and Hermione."

Draco felt his stomach lurch. "Oh. Is everything okay?"

"Yes and no." Harry sighed. "I think it will be... eventually. They don't-- No one really trusts me."

"I trust you, Harry," Draco said quickly and tried to smile reassuringly.

Harry smiled at him. "Well, they don't. I didn't expect them to immediately forgive you and accept our relationship, but it makes me angry that they can't just _trust_ me! I thought I'd earned it, you know?" Harry shook his head in frustration.

Draco nodded.

"Honestly, you've been far more awful to me than you ever were to them. I know I've made mistakes, I've believed things that I shouldn't have, but I've grown up. I'm not the same boy who stayed in the lake to save everyone from the merpeople. I'm not trying to play the hero."

Draco sighed. "Can I ask you something?"

Harry nodded, still looking glum.

"Why did you agree to bond with me?" Draco asked, careful to keep his voice neutral. "You did it without a lot of pushing, really, and I've wondered about it ever since."

Harry paled. He took a long time to answer. In fact, Draco was sure he wasn't going to answer at all.

"Remus..." Harry's green eyes locked on Draco's for a second, and he continued, "Remus talked to me, right after I saw you in the park. He made it clear that this--" he pointed to the air between them, "--was not something I could ignore."

Draco swallowed and nodded. He looked at Harry expectantly, wanting a detailed account of the conversation that had given him Harry.

Harry drummed his fingers on the table, expelling some of the frustrated energy the conversation was building. He hadn't brought up his conversation with Remus before, even though he knew it to be a source of curiosity for Draco. The conversation and the implications of it were personal to him. And, until the last few days, he had not been completely confident in Draco's loyalty. After a considerable silence, Harry asked, "Did you know the first time we met wasn't at Diagon Alley?"

Draco shook his head, unsure where the conversation was heading.

Harry nodded and swallowed before elaborating. "I met you the summer before Voldemort killed my parents, at a park, when we were both about a year old. I was there with my parents and you were there with your mum."

Draco had just picked up his drink, and promptly choked on it. When his coughing died away, he exclaimed, "You're kidding!"

Harry shook his head, his blank expression concealing any emotions. "I had just learned how to walk and I walked right over to you. Your mom was holding you and you cried until she put you down. We played together that day and when it was time to go home, I cried all day long."

Draco's eyes were wide and his mouth was agape. He shut it sharply. "Lupin told you this?" he asked doubtfully.

Harry nodded.

Draco shook his head. "He has to be wrong. How could that even have happened? Wouldn't you have been locked up... that prophecy, hadn't it been made before you were born?"

Harry shrugged. "Yes, but I guess my parents still wanted to do normal things like have picnics. I can imagine they wouldn't have liked hiding in a house all day long."

Draco ran his hands down his face and sighed. "This is unbelievable. You and I played together when we were just old enough to walk... and, and what does it mean?"

Harry licked his lips. "Well," he said slowly, "my parents knew who your mother and father were, of course, and they found it strange that I would be attracted to you like that. They knew there had to be a reason that it happened. Long story short, my grandfather, who was familiar with wizard genealogy, told my parents that your family had veela blood and that it could be possible that you and I were destined. I guess there are ways of testing this." Harry looked at a flabbergasted Draco, who nodded dumbly. "Well, when that came out, my parents went to Dumbledore. They told him that you and I were soul mates and he promised that when the time came, he would help in anyway he could."

"Because of the prophecy and who you were, no one was ever told. It was supposed to stay between my family and Dumbledore, but my parents were worried, even then, that you would become a Death Eater when you grew up. My father went to Remus and told him the entire story. They wanted to come up with a plan, I guess, so that when the time was right, they could protect us." Harry took a deep breath and he looked to Draco, who was breathing hard and trying desperately to process this new information.

Harry took a sip of water and continued, "Third year, when Remus was teaching at Hogwarts, he watched you and he told me..." Harry stopped and looked to Draco. "Did he try to talk to you that year?"

Draco looked startled by the question, but nodded nevertheless. "He did! He would offer me tea and tell me stories about his time at Hogwarts, and he talked about veela once. Oh, wait a minute."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"The book I gave you, he lent it to me!" Draco's excitement rose as he was able to piece together another puzzle. "He told me it would be useful for our exams. I read the bloody thing and there wasn't anything on the exam that year about veela but then when my feelings for you changed, I remembered that book and I realized what I was. I didn't know how he knew but I wouldn't have realized if I hadn't known what Destined veela were."

Harry sighed. "I was willing to believe that you were veela and that you might be my soul mate. But just knowing the fact wasn't enough to convince me to trust you. Remus said a lot of other things that hit home. He told me that you and I had a lot in common because you were basically an orphan now after betraying Voldemort. He also said you had taken such a huge risk for a chance with me. And of course, it didn't hurt that Dumbledore was willing to risk his life so that you and I could have a chance together--so that I could finally have someone who loves me."

Draco snorted. "He really laid the guilt on, didn't he?"

Harry nodded. "He said exactly what I needed to hear. I wouldn't have even bothered if I didn't know for a fact that Dumbledore had risked his life to save you. On the tower, he said he hadn't stopped you because he wanted the opportunity to talk openly with you and he couldn't have done it until you had your wand pointed at him and couldn't kill him."

Draco's eyes grew as dark as the tone in Harry's voice. The tower was still too sensitive a topic for the both of them.

"Dumbledore died because he was sick and he knew his death could be useful... at least, to protect you. I think he was carrying out my parent's wishes, and that's not something I can just forget or ignore. I just wish someone had told me, you know? Remus said that it was important that you were the one to tell me, but I... it would've made things easier."

Draco nodded. Harry fell into a reflective silence and Draco, feeling restless, stood to clear the table. He felt mixed emotions. He felt guilty for what had happened to Dumbledore because of him and for all that Harry had lost and all that he had said to Harry over the years. He also felt relieved. Harry's parents had known about him all those years ago and had made plans for him. Had they survived, they would not have stood in their way. It made him feel better and it made him wonder how Harry could have taken this news quite as well as he had. He knew Harry well enough to know that he could be easily steered into action, but there had only been days between his conversation with Lupin and the first time he offered to spend the night in Draco's room. Not for the first time, Draco wondered if Harry had had feelings for him before he had shown up in Little Whinging.

Once the table was clear, Draco lingered by the door. "Harry?"

Green eyes snapped out of their reverie to look at him.

"I don't know if I'm exactly what you wanted. I don't know if you've ever thought about being with me before--or even with another man, but I know that what I feel for you is real. It was real when we were babies because I was made for you and that's kind of amazing when you think about it." Draco paused, distracted by the watchful eyes on him. He swallowed thickly and continued, "I was made for you. I am whatever you want me to be. Not because of the magic or anything, and I know that's probably not something you want to hear because you aren't domineering or anything, but...I'm yours. All of me." Draco met Harry's eyes. "I'm yours to have... If you want me... However you want me."

Draco stopped talking. He wondered where the confident boy he had once been had gone. He felt exposed in a way that was frightening and exhilarating. He was able to put his entire trust, his entire being in Harry's hands, and it was okay.

But Harry wasn't speaking; he wasn't exactly moving, either. Draco wasn't worried, though. Not really.

"I'm going to go up to bed. Please don't stay down here all night," he said then, and left. He waited at the stairs, wanting desperately to run to Harry and beg him to say something--anything. He gathered his strength finally and made his way up to their room.

Not long after Draco had prepared and gotten into bed, Harry joined him. He waited while the dark-haired boy changed and washed up. When Harry finally crawled under the covers, Draco found hands turning him. Lips met his in the dark, and Draco drew Harry closer, relaxing into the kiss, letting Harry explore him.

When they pulled apart, Harry rested his head on Draco's chest.

"My deepest, darkest fantasy..." Harry whispered. "The one thing I would never tell anyone, not even at wandpoint, was you. I thought about you. What it would be like. I thought I was crazy."

"You..." Draco's voice was weak, almost inaudible. "You wanted me?"

Draco felt the nod against his skin and immediately his stomach tied itself into knots. He felt relieved and excited and nervous, because this was it. Harry fell asleep, his face buried in Draco's skin, but Draco stayed awake. He had finally gotten exactly what he wanted and now... well, now there were possibilities.

---

The next morning, Draco woke up alone and buried his face in his pillow for a while, wishing Harry had stayed in bed so that they could have a lie in. Finally, he yawned and sat up. He could hear water running in the bathroom and decided to wait until Harry was out before getting completely out of the warm bed.

He wondered what they would be doing that day. They still had a lot to go over as far as the Horcruxes and Voldemort. He still didn't know if any of them had been destroyed or if Harry knew what the seventh Horcrux was.

Finally, the door opened and Harry came out, dripping wet, with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist. He caught Draco's eyes and turned pink. Draco licked his lips and swallowed reflexively. Harry shifted uncomfortably under his gaze for a second before running to the closet. Draco sighed and buried his head in his pillow.

When Harry finally left the closet, he was clean and dry. Draco gave him a disappointed 'Aww' before heading to the bathroom himself. As he passed him, Draco gave Harry a quick peck on the lips, which Harry leaned into. He wrapped his arms around the veela and squeezed tightly before letting Draco go into the shower.

After breakfast, Harry and Draco sat together in the newly decorated sitting room. "I destroyed the diary that time in second year, and it was a horcrux. Like you heard yesterday, Dumbledore destroyed the ring. We thought we had found the locket, but..." Harry's face darkened, and he had to take a moment to calm himself. "Dumbledore had been doing research all year. That was why he spent days out of the castle. The day he died, he and I had gone out looking for a Horcrux in the cave where the young Tom Riddle had tortured two orphans. The real locket had already been taken and it was replaced with a fake, as well as a note--" Harry handed the note to Draco. "I'm not sure exactly who stole it or where it is now, but I doubt it's as well protected as it had been in that cave."

"I'm sorry, Harry, for that night, I know..."

"Draco," Harry said gently. "Don't." Draco nodded.

Harry cleared his throat. "So I need to find out who R.A.B. is and what he did with the locket. And since that is the Horcrux that I know the most about at this point, I want to go after it first."

"And the others?"

Harry sighed. "They could be anywhere. The orphanage, the Riddle house, Hogwarts, Albania or some other place we don't know about."

"And the seventh Horcrux? Assuming Dumbledore is right about all the others, what's the last one?"

Harry jumped, startled. "Oh! I forgot! Yesterday, I was all... well, and I forgot! Snape, he told me about Tobias Prewett who was killed thirty-five years ago. He owned Rowena Ravenclaw's torch. It sounded like Voldemort's job and everything."

"Ravenclaw's torch?"

Harry nodded. "So the ones left are Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's torch, Nagini and Voldemort himself."

"Five," said Draco matter-of-factly.

"Right," Harry started pacing the room, "but right now, I only care about R.A.B. and the locket. Do the initials sound familiar to you?"

"No," Draco was tracking Harry with his eyes, "but I think it's a Death Eater. He called him the Dark Lord."

Harry turned to him. "Regulus Black was a Death Eater. Sirius told me once he got too far in and backed out once he found out what he was expected to do--" Harry didn't look at Draco as he said this "--but I think Regulus might be too easy a guess."

Draco looked pensive. "Do we know his middle name?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but... I could check. The tapestry at Headquarters would tell me, wouldn't it?"

Draco looked questioningly at him. He, after all, did not know where Headquarters was.

"Headquarters--Grimmauld Place, the Black family house."

Draco nodded in understanding. "But if he was the R.A.B. we're looking for, where would he have hidden the locket? Do you think he destroyed it?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea. I'll have to let Ron and Hermione know. They can do more digging than I can."

Draco nodded and stood to go to the restroom. Harry stood as well, and stopped the other boy.

"_Draco_," Harry said softly and leaned in towards the boy. Draco waited expectantly and was awarded with Harry's soft, dry lips pressing against his own. He groaned and pulled Harry to him. Harry did not resist him, but moved into his embrace and soon Draco felt Harry's lips part and he couldn't help but dig his fingers into Harry's back. Harry's hands went to his hair as Draco slipped his tongue into Harry's mouth. He tasted Harry's tongue, eliciting a moan from the other boy. Draco tipped his head back, and Harry took control, invading Draco's mouth and running his tongue along Draco's with far more passion than experience.

Too soon, Harry pulled away and gasped for air. Draco watched him hungrily.

Harry stumbled away from the other boy. "Merlin," he swore, his fingers touching his mouth.

Draco was so overcome with lust that he couldn't help moving back into Harry's personal space, but Harry evaded his mouth, choosing instead to kiss Draco's neck and run his hands down the veela's sides. Draco's hips pressed against Harry's and the other boy seemed to come to his senses. He pulled away and held Draco at a distance.

Harry smiled timidly, his cheeks a pale pink, as he took in Draco's ruffled appearance. "We've got to stop," he whispered. "You move too fast."

Draco nodded, taking a deep breath and covering Harry's hands with his own. "I'm sorry. I'll try to refrain from jumping your bones."

Harry laughed nervously. "I'm serious. We've got time. We don't need to move so fast."

Draco wondered absently what time Harry was talking about. There was a madman out there trying to kill them both, which sped things up a little. He did manage to get himself under control, however, for Harry's sake. He knew that he could still fuck everything up and he was determined not to.

They spent the day in friendly conversation and at a reasonably safe distance from one another. Tonks was to visit at some point and they didn't want to be caught with their pants down, so to speak.

Overall, Draco was very satisfied with the new developments in his life. He finally had a definition for what Harry was. In fact, he had many--lover, boyfriend, soul mate, love of his life, partner, significant other... It was all very satisfactory, indeed. He could even ignore the voice in the back of his mind warning him of evil that was right around the corner.


	11. Grimmauld Place

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Eleven**

12 Grimmauld Place

--

Seven Cross Court had settled into a happy and peaceful routine for a couple of weeks. Then, just as August was coming to an end, they received a strange visit from Tonks. She arrived during dinner with letters for Harry, a _Daily Prophet_ for Draco, and immediately asked Harry to step into the other room for a moment.

Draco wasn't much bothered by their secret rendezvous. He opened the paper, expecting no more than a story about what the Ministry was not doing to defeat Voldemort and instead, stared at the headline, 'HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED TAKES AZKABAN PRISON.'

He scanned the page and came face to face with a picture of his own father. He stared at the picture that was taken when he had been sentenced to ten years in Azkaban. The cold eyes stared at Draco, ripping through the boy's false security and stripping him of all happiness. He did not need to read the story to know how it happened or to worry about his father coming after him and his mother.

As he put the paper down, he mentally went through his options. He had told Harry he would not follow his father's command, and he had been honest. His father was not someone he trusted, nor was he someone Draco would solicit willingly. However, he had no doubt that his father would attempt to find him--and, most likely, attempt to kill him.

Harry and Tonks joined him shortly after. Although Draco continued to stare at the newspaper, he revealed little emotion.

"Draco, there's something I want to tell you," Harry said solemnly.

Draco nodded. He exposed the cover of the newspaper to Harry, who sighed.

"That's not the only thing I need to tell you."

Draco nodded again. He met Harry's eyes and the other boy held his hand out; Draco grabbed hold of his soul mate's hand and gripped it tightly. In the back of his mind, Draco hoped their arms were low enough that Tonks had not noticed. He'd prefer not to make a public mockery of himself.

Harry had trouble finding his voice; his eyes, filled with anxiety and sincere care for the veela, were fixed on Draco. "Do you remember your mother gave us a tip?"

Draco nodded.

"Well, she came to the Order for help. And she was brought to Headquarters over a week ago, but it seems she suffered an injury that she had been masking with a glamour charm. It's old, and they're not sure..." Harry trailed off.

Draco couldn't help himself; he dropped his head onto the table in front of him, covering his face with his crossed arms and letting go of Harry's hand in the process. His father he could lose; his mother he could not. He simply could not imagine not having her in his life.

He felt a soothing hand rubbing his back and felt the chill running through his spine that alerted him of Harry's presence.

The dark-haired boy leaned over to whisper in the veela's ear. "I'm sorry, Draco. I'm so sorry."

Draco nodded and let his arms fall to his side. Harry kneeled beside his chair and Draco turned his face to look at him. Harry took one pale hand into his own and Draco, overcome, slid out of his chair into his soul mate's awaiting arms. The blond sobbed quietly, his tears wetting the other boy's shirt. Draco vaguely thought of Tonks, who must have been watching on, but, for once, he did not care. He was losing his mother and very little else could comfort him.

Harry kissed his pale blonde hair and whispered, "I'm so sorry. Tell me what to do. I l..." Harry's heart was racing; he was unable to finish the sentence. The mere thought of what he could have said--what his heart was telling him to say--was more than he could handle. He kissed Draco's cheek and waited for the tears to subside and for the world to make sense again.

For a second, Harry looked up, meeting Tonks's eyes. The vibrant-haired witch nodded to him and left, touching Draco's shoulder gently on the way out. Harry listened for the sound of the door clicking shut. Once he heard it, he pulled back from Draco, to look for those grey eyes that were quickly becoming so beautiful to him, but they were closed.

"Hey," Harry said as he nudged Draco carefully. "Hey, let's go up to bed, okay?"

Draco laid his head on Harry's chest and nodded slowly. Harry had never felt quite like he did right then. His heart cried out for the boy against his chest, and he felt overwhelmed with the need to care for the veela.

Harry pulled himself up to his feet and worked on getting Draco off the floor. He wrapped his arms around Draco tightly and helped lift him up. Draco clung to him like a child to its mother, which did nothing to cool Harry's yearning heart. He had never thought he could care so much about anything, but all he wanted at that moment was to make it all right for Draco.

Harry guided Draco through the halls, turning off lights as he went along. They dragged themselves up the stairs and into the bedroom. Draco sat at the end of the bed, looking into the distance, while Harry quickly pulled off his clothes. He wasn't familiar with the Draco Malfoy that looked so lost and vulnerable. Neither was he familiar with the Draco Malfoy that pulled at his heart and made him feel so alive. He didn't know how to approach either. Instead, he stood awkwardly at the side of the bed, waiting for a cue as to what Draco needed.

Draco took a deep, calming breath and stood. He walked past Harry and went to the restroom. Harry waited and listened as the toilet flushed and the water began to run.

Draco came out with a fresh face and dressed down to his underwear. Harry continued to stand by the bed awkwardly, waiting for cues that were not forthcoming. Since Draco had obviously washed his face and brushed his teeth, Harry wondered if he should do the same, but he wasn't sure if Draco wanted him to stay or not.

Draco walked straight to Harry and wrapped his thin arms around Harry's narrow waist. Harry exhaled in relief and kissed Draco's cheek. The blond's head tilted back and he looked at Harry--just looked at him. He smiled and leaned in to touch his lips to Harry's. This complete, he leaned his forehead against Harry's--they were of one height--and sighed. His breath was cool and clean on Harry's face.

"I want you," Draco stated desolately, and, with a groan, he pulled away from his confused mate.

Draco looked so wretched it made Harry feel awful. He was frustrated and confused and all he could do was turn and go into the restroom.

When he came out, freshly showered and unclothed, Draco was watching him from the bed. Harry walked over to his wardrobe and found some underwear that he slipped on. He removed the towel from around his waist and pulled a t-shirt on. He could feel those smoldering eyes on him and they twisted his stomach into knots.

He took slow, measured steps to the bed. He pulled back the sheets and lay down stiffly. Draco had not moved. After a few minutes of waiting for something to happen, Harry turned on his side--facing away from Draco--and closed his eyes. In the next instant, he felt lips on his neck and his eyes immediately snapped open.

"I want you," Draco repeated in the same desolate tone.

Harry took a deep breath, understanding. He turned and met Draco's lips with his own. It hadn't been long ago that Draco had told him that he belonged to Harry. That he was his alone. Harry wanted to convey a similar message, but could not find the words.

They kissed, with less saliva and better control than they had known previously. Harry pulled away, his lips tingling. He could not make out Draco's eyes or his emotions. He wanted to give Draco something--some comfort, but didn't know how.

--

Draco wanted to forget his misfortune. He wanted to drown in Harry's embrace but knew he couldn't push the dark-haired wizard. He should have been content at kissing Harry, but was never one to take his own advice.

His hands roamed the warm body against him and his fingers found themselves at the waist of Harry's underwear.

Harry exhaled immediately, but Draco was not ready to give up. He kissed the boy fiercely and cupped him in the same moment. The lean body he held jerked and lurched away from him. In fact, Harry pulled away so hard that he nearly fell from the bed. Fortunately, he grabbed a quick hold of the sheets and pulled himself up, staring hard at Draco.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his breathing labored.

In a low voice, Draco responded, "We're getting to know one another."

Harry's breathing slowed slightly. "I--I don't think that's a good idea right now, Draco."

Draco nodded, feeling so disappointed he could not say a single word.

Harry averted his eyes, fighting down the feelings of despair at Draco's disappointment. "You're upset. It shouldn't be like that."

Draco shrugged and turned away from Harry. "It's fine. Go to bed."

Harry reached for him, throwing one arm around him. "I want you, too. I swear I do."

Draco's eyes became suddenly wet, and he wondered if they were that way before the confession. It didn't really matter. "No, you don't," he whispered. "Please don't say such nonsense."

"Draco," Harry immediately interjected, "that's not fair. I do."

Draco sighed. "Go to sleep, please." He waited, felt a quick kiss to his shoulder and relaxed. Harry moved to his side of the bed and Draco was left with his own thoughts and worries.

He tried not to think of his mother, but found he could think of nothing else. He really did not want to think about Harry and how close he had come to taking advantage of Harry's concern for him. He truly wanted Harry more than anything in the universe, but he knew it was not fair to either of them to push the limits of their relationship after receiving such dreadful news.

Besides, he wasn't sure if Harry had read the chapter in _Veela, Wizards and Soulmates_ that described the full bonding process and he knew it wouldn't be fair to bond without Harry being fully aware of the consequences.

---

Over the next week, Draco tried not to think of his mother. He had not asked to go and visit her, though he knew Harry was ready at a moment's notice to escort him. He did listen to the daily reports from Tonks with rapt attention. And he made it clear that he did not want his mother to know where he was or with whom. He thought of sending her a letter, but knew that she would only reply with a demand to see him.

He could tell Harry was surprised by his refusal to see his mother or to have her brought to Cross Court.

As they tried to keep themselves distracted, they spent the week researching Regulus Black. Harry visited the Order's Headquarters for hours nearly every day and at the end of the week, they were certain R.A.B. was Regulus Black.

They had found out his middle name was Alphard, and Harry had found Regulus' handwriting on a letter in the attic of Grimmauld Place that he had written to his mother. His scrawl had closely matched the letter he had found in the locket.

Once they were sure, Harry summoned Kreacher and asked the house-elf about Regulus' death.

"Why does Master want to know?" The petulant house elf asked.

Harry had little patience for the creature. "Because it's important! Tell me how he died, Kreacher."

"Kreacher does not remember..." the elf started to walk towards the door, but Harry stopped him abruptly.

"Kreacher, this is a direct order. Tell me how he died!"

There were tears in Kreacher's eyes when he turned around. "Master Regulus was on the run from the Dark Lord. He came to my Mistress and she kept him safe! Master Regulus was ill... Kreacher does not know what poisoned him but he was! The Mistress cried for days, both her sons gone... she had always loved Regulus above all else!"

Harry sent Kreacher back to Hogwarts and sat in the moldy sitting room thinking. Before Ron and Hermione could get back from Diagon Alley, he left the house.

When he returned to Cross Court, he found Draco in the sitting room in front of the new television watching EastEnder repeats.

Harry shook his head and sat in the armchair beside the sofa.

Draco was suddenly more interested in Harry than the television program. "Did he know?"

Harry nodded. "Poisoned, just like we thought. And he did go back to Grimmauld Place. He was there when he died, and if he had the locket with him, it's probably there too."

"But how would you search the house without letting anyone know what you're doing?"

Harry sat in deepest thought for a moment. "Ron and Hermione can. Only, I don't know. I want to be the one to... to find the Horcruxes, you know?"

Draco couldn't help smiling and sitting up straighter at this. "You and I could do it."

Harry's bright eyes bore into his. "Are you sure? You would have to spend a lot of time at Headquarters."

Draco swallowed. "Tonks said my mother's not doing very well; I should probably say good-bye to her."

Harry nodded and said no more. He was very pleased with the turn of events and he tried to think of a way to express his gratitude to Draco. Thinking back to the episode on the couch earlier in the week, Harry found himself exhausted with protesting and fighting what seemed to come so naturally to them both. And in the end, he decided that if Draco were to push his limits again that night, he might just let him do as he pleased.

That night, Draco kissed Harry hard and long as they lay in bed and Harry didn't protest at all. Draco crawled onto the other boy and pressed his body flush against Harry's, feeling as much as hearing Harry's moan of approval. He started to move against the warm hard body beneath him and Harry still did not protest or push him off.

Draco moaned and gripped Harry's shoulders tightly as they both fought to control the friction. Harry's hands were gripping his hips and Draco nearly came out of his skin when he felt tentative fingers moving underneath the elastic band of his underpants. Fingers grazed his painfully hard cock and he completely came unglued. The speed of his thrust against Harry increased and he felt himself on edge.

Finally, Harry caught Draco's lips between his own and arched up as he climaxed. Draco followed immediately and once they were finished, he made no move away from Harry. Instead he began to kiss every inch of his lover's face and neck; he moved to his shoulders and chest before finally taking a nipple into his mouth. He sucked and pinched, and the already limp boy beneath him moaned and melted. Once it was adequately moist and red, Draco moved back up to Harry's lips. They kissed slowly and Draco used his thigh to push Harry's legs apart as he moved to slide back down his body. Harry's eyes fluttered shut and Draco took it as a sign of approval. However, as he sucked and nibbled down Harry's golden skin, he received very little response. He pulled away completely in hopes that Harry would notice. Harry moaned slightly, but did not open his eyes. Instead of feeling disappointment at Harry's lack of response, he felt Harry's exhaustion and lay down again with a sigh.

He performed the necessary cleaning spells and tucked Harry and himself into bed. Happily, Draco drifted off to sleep with Harry's arms around him.

In the morning, Draco awoke to feel a feathery kiss to his temple. His eyes opened to see Harry smiling at him. Draco smiled back and it took longer than usual to get out of bed.

Directly after lunch Harry and Draco Apparated onto the lawn outside of 12 Grimmauld Place. Draco had visited the place as a child, and felt the same chill run down his spine that he had always felt as a child when he thought of his grandmother. Harry looked at the building with equal animosity, which made Draco remember Sirius Black.

Both boys walked slowly towards the door. Harry held it open for Draco to pass and, at once, Draco was relieved to see that much of the dark artifacts and family portraits had been removed. In fact, light seemed to be flooding the room from a window he couldn't remember noticing as a boy. He had never thought the house had any windows.

Harry led him through the house with much trepidation. Draco could hear voices coming from a room below, but they were walking towards the stairs cautiously.

A door opened to the right and Draco briefly caught a glimpse of Tonks before three events happened at once. Tonks tripped over her robe, fell over the chair that stood by the wall and made more noise than Draco thought was possible. A portrait in the hall they had come from began to wail and two wizards came from the door behind Tonks. They seemed poised for the portrait but stopped once they caught sight of Draco.

Draco suddenly felt embarrassed because he was gripping Harry's hand painfully while two full grown wizards had their wands pointed at him. He hadn't even thought to reach for his own wand; fortunately for him, Harry moved to stand in front of him, blocking him from danger.

Meanwhile, Tonks had found her footing. "Lower you wands!" she demanded.

"Harry, what's going on?" demanded Bill Weasley, his eyes on Draco.

"Yeah, what's he doing here?" asked Fred Weasley, also watching Draco warily.

"He's here with me," answered Harry coolly. "We're going to visit his mother, and we do not need an audience."

It took longer than it should have, but the two wizards finally lowered their wands.

"Harry, you can't just bring someone in here!" Fred exclaimed. "Not dirt like that."

"I can. Do you think anyone can stop me?"

"Are you..." Bill paused, searching Harry's face. "Dumbledore made you Secret-Keeper?"

Harry closed his eyes and nodded.

"And you trust Malfoy?" Fred asked, also seemingly struck by the news.

"Yes." They both seemed to relax, which caused Harry alarm.

"Now if you'll excuse me," he said, ignoring their confused faces, "we'll be upstairs." And without any further argument, he and Draco started towards the stairs again with Tonks following closely behind.

The portrait in the hall had never stopped wailing. "BLOOD-TRAITORS! HALF-BLOODS! FILTH!" could be heard as they made their way up the stairs until finally, Fred and Bill snapped out of their reverie and moved towards the screaming portrait in the hall.

Meanwhile, Draco, Harry and Tonks were climbing the second stairs case to the third floor. Even though he was no longer staring down the end of a wand, Draco still felt panic rising in his gut. What could he possibly say to his mother? How could he explain? He wasn't even sure he could stomach seeing her ill.

Tonks led them to the door of a room on the third floor and Harry looked to the blond for affirmation before opening the door. Draco had the presence of mind to stop Harry from walking into the room. He was not ready for his mother to see Harry and himself in the same room. Their eyes met and Draco shook his head; Harry seemed to understand. Both he and Tonks stepped away from the door.

Quietly, Draco went into the room and shut the door behind him.

"Draco?" called a soft, weak voice. Draco turned and met his mother's pale blue eyes. She lay, pale and fragile, on the large bed in the room. Draco was nearly overcome with heartache at seeing his mother. Her face showed all the effects of bad health--her cheeks were hollow, her eyes drawn in, and dark lines creasing her skin.

He had always known his mother to take the utmost care in her appearance. He could remember her having a bad flu when he was younger and, even then, she had insisted on applying glamour charms every hour.

He went to her and sat on the bed beside her, taking her hand in his. "What did this?" he asked, because it was all he could think about.

She smiled sadly at him, tears in her eyes. "Draco. It does not matter now."

He shook his head. "Tell me, please."

She looked away from him. "You shall not blame yourself, Draco. Promise me you won't."

Draco nodded. "I promise."

She took his hand in her frail one. "Your Aunt Bellatrix..."

An hour later, when Draco stepped out of the room, he found Harry dozing off against the wall across from the door. Draco, his heart heavy and his eyes red, knelt in front of the drowsy boy and kissed his lips softly. When they pulled apart, Harry was fully awake and immediately caught sight of Draco's distress.

"Are you okay?" He caressed Draco's cheek.

Draco nodded slowly and moved away to stand. Harry followed suit.

"Can we go home?" Draco asked softly. Harry, who had really hoped to start searching for the Horcrux, nodded.

"Yes, let's go."

Fortunately, as they left, they met no interruptions. Draco held on to Harry while the dark-haired wizard Apparated them home. Draco knew he must have seemed like a dependent child, but he did not care. The meeting with his mother had completely drained him.

They settled in the kitchen. Draco took a chair at the table and Harry bustled around, finding food for them to eat.

"Harry?" Draco called from the table, his voice tight.

"Yeah?" Harry turned to him. "What's up?"

Draco's eyes were dark with anger. "Bellatrix has to die. I'll kill her." In fact, he wanted her dead before Voldemort, before anything, even if he went to jail for it. She would pay.

Harry looked on, bewildered, but didn't question him. He assumed it probably had something to do with Narcissa's injury and would not argue even though he had always hoped to be the one to kill Bellatrix, in vengeance for what she had done to Sirius. Her death seemed to mean more to Draco at that point.

"Okay," he said, careful not to burn himself as he moved the pan from the stove. It didn't really matter so much, he told himself, who killed Bellatrix. It was more important that Draco be kept from further distress.


	12. A Slow Search Begins

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Twelve**

A Slow Search Begins

--

The next day, Draco woke extra early and made breakfast. When Harry came downstairs, he had just finished setting the table. Harry sat down and smiled warmly at Draco.

"This is nice," he said. "Did you find everything okay?" He knew Draco was a wonderful cook who, nevertheless, hated being in the kitchen and hardly ever offered to make a meal.

Draco laughed. "Yeah. I had a little bit of trouble finding flour, so I transfigured the sugar."

Draco sat in the chair beside Harry, and the bespectacled boy leaned in to kiss him good morning. They pulled apart slowly and Harry took Draco's hand in his.

"You're wonderful," he said easily--glowingly. He looked Draco in the eye and he felt more emotions than he ever thought possible. This was the man he would spend the rest of his life with, the man he would love for an eternity. It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to say the words he was beginning to feel so deeply, but he found himself hesitating. He couldn't--not yet.

They ate in companionable silence, Draco with his left hand, as his other hand continued to be held warmly within Harry's. After breakfast, Harry didn't hesitate to begin the clean up.

Draco watched as Harry took the plates and carried them to the sink. He set the soap and the sponge to cleaning and continued to bustle about, putting things away. When Harry came back to the table to put away the place settings, Draco stopped him with a hand on his back.

Harry turned to look questioningly at him. "Hey," he said, smiling at the blond.

Their eyes met and Draco leaned towards him, to kiss his lips. He felt Harry's love for him, a sensation he thought he'd have to wait forever to feel, but there it was, on Harry's lips and on his face and in his eyes. Love.

When they pulled apart, Harry's cheeks were flushed and his lips swollen. He blushed slightly. "Are we still going to Headquarters today?"

Draco nodded. "We need to find that locket."

Harry's eyes were suddenly clouded with some unreadable emotion. "I know." He smiled again and Draco forgot all about it.

---

The moment they arrived at Grimmauld Place, Ron and Hermione greeted them. Draco, at least, had skipped meeting them the day before, but he had known it was not something he'd be lucky enough to skip again.

"Malfoy." Ron nodded curtly. Hermione inclined her head slightly but said nothing. Instead, she turned to Harry.

"You've told him everything then?"

Harry nodded, and she looked exasperated, but not all that surprised. "Well, we'd better get started."

They followed her up the stairs to the attic.

"There are boxes and things that we never got to up here," she said to Harry. "We can start there because I don't honestly think it's in any of the rooms we cleaned--we would have noticed if it was."

Harry readily agreed and the four of them began their search. For once, the house was devoid of visitors. After their run-in with Fred and Bill, Harry had sent a letter to Hermione asking her to make sure everyone would be out when they arrived. The rest of Ron's family was visiting Fred and George in Diagon Alley, and Tonks had owled to say that as far as she knew, there wasn't a meeting that day.

Even though the four of them were alone, Draco stuck pretty close to Harry through the entire day. He was surprised by the amount of civility he received from Weasley and he chalked it up to Gryffindor courage and Hufflepuff loyalty--to Harry, of course. Yet, they were far from being friends and Draco found it difficult to start a conversation with him.

With Ron he found civility, but this was not the case with Hermione. Her disdain for him was palpable, but he found he could not blame her. Out of the three, he had perhaps been the most evil to Hermione and she seemed out to take revenge for every insult he had ever thrown at her.

At lunchtime, it was she who went down to get their meal. When she returned, rather then offer Draco any sandwiches, she laid the remainder on a table near to him. Both Harry and Weasley looked astonished at this degree of coldness.

And before they left for the day, with no progress made towards finding the Horcrux, she pulled Harry into an adjacent room.

---

Harry was reluctant to follow his friend. He had noticed her behavior towards Draco and was not pleased by it.

"What is this about, Hermione?" he asked testily as she locked the door behind them. She had led him to the main closet in the hall.

"How much do you know about Destined veela, Harry?"

Harry sighed. "You're kidding, right? Hermione, do you honestly think I'd bind my life--my life!--to someone without knowing what I was doing? Do you think I'm that stupid?" They stared at each other. "You know what, don't answer that, Hermione. You'll be very surprised to find that Draco has told me everything. He tells me everything. I _know_ what I'm getting into."

Hermione looked away from him; her eyes were wet. "I just don't understand, Harry. You haven't fully bonded, have you?"

In this type of situation, Harry felt the normal course of action would be to give his friend a good telling off, but he refrained and said, "Not that it's any of your business, but no, we haven't."

"But you will?"

Harry could feel his cheeks burn and his stomach leap into his throat. "Yeah."

She turned towards him, her look accusatory. "Even though it puts you at jeopardy? Even though it makes it easier to get to you? We're at war, Harry."

He moved towards her. His patience with her was running thin. "DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT, HERMIONE?"

"I DON'T THINK YOU DO!" She had risen to meet him in tone and anger. "It's not just your life that's at stake! We're all at risk! Nothing will stop Voldemort if you die, you know that! Dumbledore told you that!"

"You think I've forgotten? Do you think I spend my days thinking about anything else?"

Hermione was breathing heavily and angry tears were streaming down her cheeks. "While you're fucking Malfoy, people are dying. Don't you care?"

Harry laughed. "He's my one chance to have any happiness, don't _you_ care about that?"

"Harry. You're being childish about this. He's not _your_ one chance. You are _his_ one chance. You can live without him..."

He interjected. "You think I'd want to? Do you think I want to know what that would be like?"

She met his eyes. "I think it would probably be for the best. You have to remember, Harry, if you bond and he dies, you die too. And if it happens before Voldemort is defeated, then what?"

"When did you start to care about prophecies? A lot of them don't happen, and you know it. Someone else..."

"Who, Harry? Who knows what you know? What Dumbledore knew?"

Harry pursed his lips. "I've told you everything I know. You're smarter than I am anyway."

"Harry." Her voice softened. "That's not--I'm not... You're the only one who can, you know that. You have to. I can't."

"But you think that because of Draco I won't?"

She nodded.

"Hermione, the prophecy says I have a power the Dark Lord knows not, remember?" She nodded. "And what did Dumbledore think that was?"

"Love," she whispered.

"Dumbledore died because he thought Draco and I being together was worth the risk. He made a promise to my parents to protect both of us. Dumbledore wanted me to defeat Voldemort but he also wanted me to find love."

Hermione wiped her face. "You can love him, you can keep him with you and tell him everything you want. But would it really make a difference if you didn't bond with him?"

Harry laughed. "You really don't want me to?"

Hermione shook her head. "I think you should wait until it's over."

"What if that's years away, Hermione? You don't understand what that would do to Draco. He's only alive because I made the vow to bond with him. His happiness right now is completely dependent on me. He's not free to be himself, and I want him to be." He pleaded with her to understand and he could see the conflicting emotions in her eyes. _Freedom,_ he knew, was something Hermione strove for, for every creature.

Finally, she took a deep breath and answered him. "I never really understood why people in films say 'sometimes you have to make a sacrifice' and then they off themselves for a cause. But I can't help thinking that in winning this war, in defeating Voldemort we're all going to make sacrifices. We're going to lose people we love and we're going to have to give up some of the things we love. The sacrifice would be worth it."

Harry ran a disgruntled hand through his hair. "I hate to say it, Hermione, but I've made more sacrifices than anyone. I know what it's like and I know that Draco isn't something I'm willing to sacrifice."

Her eyes widened in evidence that she had underestimated Harry's feelings for the blond.

"Harry," she started softly, "I'm not trying to make your life difficult. I am glad you've found someone to love, even if it's Malfoy. I just don't want you to take more risk than is absolutely necessary. Can't you see that this is very risky?"

Harry laughed bitterly. "Walking down the street is risky, Hermione."

"I know that! And I'd advise you never to take a walk down the street." He stared at her and her seriousness dissipated slightly. He smirked and she smiled indulgently back. "Okay, okay, that's ridiculous, I know. But I'm worried, Harry."

"I'm worried, too, Hermione. I'm worried that nothing I could ever do will prepare me to kill Voldemort. I worry every day that I'm going to fail."

She went to him instantly and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Oh, Harry."

He squeezed her tightly for a second and marveled and how different it was to hug someone who wasn't Draco. It wasn't nearly as nice. She was too curvy--too bumpy.

She let go and he sighed. "I... I can't explain how I feel, Hermione. I care about him more than anything and I really feel like... like I could love him. And you don't know how weird it is to think that I have these kinds of feelings for Draco Malfoy, but I do. If you think... Our bond would never be about sex, you know?"

Hermione nodded.

Harry licked his lips and continued, "It's about me wanting him to know I'd give my life for him, that I love him enough to want him safe."

Hermione sighed. "Don't you think he already knows?"

He stared at her. "Well, yeah, but... not in a concrete way."

"Harry, he knows. You don't have to show him like this. You could wait, if you wanted to. If you thought it was best."

"I feel like, I can't not do it because I don't want him to make me vulnerable. That can't be the reason not to do it," he said wearily. He did not like having to explain himself to Hermione but he hoped to make her understand.

She nodded. "Then don't do it because you want to wait until you can offer him the security he deserves."

Harry had thought about this many times before. He didn't want to put Draco in more danger than he was already in. It was one of his own hesitations about the bond.

In the end, he nodded. "Okay. We'll wait."

---

Harry and Hermione reappeared and Draco was immediately at Harry's side. The dark-haired boy appeared more distracted than he had been beforehand. Something was definitely bothering him that hadn't before he had disappeared into the closet.

Hermione, on the other hand, had changed perceptively since last leaving the drawing room. She smiled sweetly as she walked over to them, "Mal--no, Draco, before you leave, I wanted to talk to you a bit about your mother." She was smiling and her voice was kind.

Draco looked to Harry, who shrugged and moved away from him. Draco looked after him concernedly. _What did she say to him?_

"Did I miss something, _Hermione_?" His voice was steady as he tried to keep calm.

"Like what?" she answered innocently.

"Like why you come out of the closet looking bright and cheerful and Harry comes out looking like the weight of another world was added to his shoulders?" She seemed surprised that he had noticed, which only caused his irritation to swell.

"He's fine, it's nothing," she said lightly, nearly too pleasant. "He tells you everything, right? He'll tell you later, right now's not the time." Her voice was growing harder and only caused Draco to worry more.

"Do you want to hear about your mother or not?" she snapped suddenly.

Draco shook his head, wanting to move away from her. "Not from you, no." They parted and Draco was glad to have her go. He walked towards Harry, hoping to convince the boy to end their search for the day.

He tapped on Harry's shoulder and the other boy turned and searched his face. "Draco, what's wrong?"

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. "Later."

"Is it your mother?"

Draco looked Harry in the eye and found that love and adoration he had sensed earlier. He trusted Harry, even if he didn't trust his friends. He nodded. "Can we go home?" he asked quietly.

Harry nodded and put an arm around his waist. He kissed Draco's cheek. "Of course."

Harry said his good-bye to Ron and Hermione, the latter of whom refused to acknowledge Draco once again. Harry sighed heavily, making Draco feel guilty. He did not want to be the cause of a rift in Harry's relationship with his friends.

Before they could leave the room, however, the front door was opened and the group exchanged worried looks. Ron automatically moved towards the door to peek out and see who it was. Harry pulled Draco closer to him.

"It's members of the Order," Ron said, closing the door.

"They can't see Malfoy, Harry," said Hermione. _So, it's Malfoy again_, Draco thought bitterly.

"Why not? Fred and Bill did..."

"But they're Weasleys, Harry. Anyone else and he'll be arrested." She had a point and Harry sighed, reaching into his knapsack. He pulled his Invisibility Cloak free and handed it to Draco without a word. The reformed Death Eater tried not to feel like a criminal as he fastened it shut.

Harry put a hand on his invisible back and guided him to the door.

The members of the Order were lingering in the foyer when they emerged. Harry tried his best to blend into the wall but they seemed to have spotted him.

"Potter! Just the wizard we need to see," growled Moody, directing all attention to him.

"Harry?" questioned Lupin, his eyebrow raised in a question. He had to know Draco would be there with him, because they had let Tonks know the night before where they would be. Harry motioned to the air in front of him and the werewolf nodded.

"Harry Potter?" asked an elderly witch, coming forward. "I've always wanted to meet the famous Harry Potter. You'll be joining the meeting then, won't you?"

Harry threw Lupin a desperate look.

"No, Harry will not be joining us," said Lupin smoothly. "He is not a member of the Order, and..."

"Bollocks!" shouted Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Next you'll say Dumbledore didn't want Harry in the Order and I'd bet anything he did!"

There seemed to be a general uproar amongst the group and it did not seem to be in favor of Harry going home. Ron and Hermione, who had emerged from the drawing room, stepped behind Harry.

"Harry," Hermione whispered hurriedly, "we should go, it could be important. They won't know." He knew instinctively that she meant Draco. At the thought, he looked to Moody and the aged Auror met his eyes. Harry moved forward carefully, hiding Draco from Mad-Eye's probing eye. He met Moody's stare directly, unflinchingly.

Meanwhile, Lupin had given in to the crowd. "We'll have to wait for McGonagall. She makes the decisions."

Draco had heard Hermione's whisper and he became aware of what the opportunity the meeting could provide to the both of them. Harry could use it to rally support, not just for the fight against the Dark Lord, but for Draco's own innocence.

Thinking quickly, he stepped close to Harry and whispered, "Go to the meeting, you need their support."

Harry nodded, seemingly to himself. He looked to the group assembled. "The three of us are willing to join."

Lupin looked at him sharply but nodded. Moody was contemplating Harry, measuring him and making him feel uncomfortable. Draco became aware, the moment Moody's eyes met his, that the madman could see through Invisibility Cloaks with that eye of his. He didn't even want to contemplate the politics that kept Moody's mouth shut. He knew Harry would have clout with these people, but he had never thought about the amount.

McGonagall arrived a few seconds later, and hot on her heels were Professor Snape and Tonks. Draco was buoyed by their presence. Tonks had become his friend--the only one he had anymore--and Snape was someone he trusted, whom he had wanted to talk to. They both saw Harry, Ron and Hermione and drew the correct conclusions about Draco's proximity.

Tonks walked over to them. "Wotcha, Harry," she said casually, and then her voice dropped, "Didn't find out about the meeting 'til this morning, sorry... Draco?" Draco touched her shoulder and her eyes widened. "Right. Uh..." She stood up straighter and took Harry's side, seemingly taking it upon herself to guard them.

Meanwhile, Moody, Lupin and McGonagall were engaged in a deep conversation. It seemed to be regarding Harry and the meeting but Draco couldn't figure out how it was going. McGonagall seemed skeptical and against the idea, and yet the other two seemed in favor of it. Now that he had noticed it, Draco could feel Moody's magical eye on him and it was disturbing. Had that man ever heard of privacy?

The group broke apart and McGonagall looked to Harry, startled to find both Tonks and Professor Snape standing around him--for Snape had wandered over after a minute's hesitation.

McGonagall saw something in Harry and the way he stood there, proud and in command of himself, that caused her entire demeanor to change. She was prepared to reprimand him for being out of his house without a full escort, but something in his countenance changed her mind. Harry noticed her watching him with a degree of surprise.

"Mr. Potter, it is good to have you here," she said, letting surprise wash away and inclining her head towards him.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry answered gracefully, the pink in his cheeks minimal.

"There seems to be an outcry for your joining our meeting this afternoon. Are you willing?"

Harry nodded.

"Well then, lets go down into the kitchen." She sighed and her eyes were a little wet as she led them down into the basement kitchen. The rest waited for Harry to follow before they moved. Harry wasn't sure he understood any part of what had gone on, but he felt Draco at his back, moving with him, and he had all the confidence he needed. In the kitchen, they were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George, and Bill and Fleur. Mrs. Weasley was surprised to see Harry but it wasn't until she saw Ron following him that she really hit her stride.

"Professor, I cannot allow you to let my children join the..."

"Mum!" Ron broke in, going bright red. However, Mr. Weasley saved him the trouble of arguing with her by pulling his wife back to her seat and whispering furiously into her ear. She turned and took in the crowd before her; everyone was watching Harry, so she said no more.

Ron and Hermione took seats by the Weasleys, though Draco noticed Ron chose the spot furthest from his parents. He, on the other hand, was guided to the back of the room by Tonks and Lupin. Snape also wandered into their corner, leaving Harry standing beside Professor McGonagall at the head of the table.

Harry was nervous and wished that Tonks hadn't taken Draco away. He liked knowing he had the veela's presence near him.

"Order, please!" McGonagall called, and, slowly, silence fell. The room was densely packed, as if they had known the boy who lived was making an appearance. There had to be at least fifty people in the room and they all turned to face them. "Today is the... fifth day of September and this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix is officially called to order."

A Quick-Quotes Quill by McGonagall's side began to frantically move across the piece of parchment on the table.

"Last week, the Daily Prophet's headquarters in Diagon Alley were ransacked and, of course, the Ministry is denying Death Eater involvement, but..."

"Do _we_ know who did it?" someone called.

"No," answered McGonagall curtly. "But we have some ideas..."

"If it was a Death Eater attack, why wasn't the Dark Mark used? Do you think they've changed their tactics?" someone else asked.

"We don't know..."

"Why are we worried about the Daily Prophet being ransacked anyway? Shouldn't we be more worried about the prisoners that broke out of Azkaban? Where's Lucius Malfoy, eh?"

"I've got a better question," an Irish Wizard in the back of the room came forward, "where's Draco Malfoy? One week, he let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts so they could kill Dumbledore and the next week, you let the Death Eater that killed Dumbledore come to Headquarters to tell us that Malfoy's innocent. So where is he and why should I believe you?"

McGonagall looked too weary to deal with any of the questions. She didn't have any of the confidence that Dumbledore had and she didn't put across any of the strength that Dumbledore did. There was no reason to trust her or to believe that she could protect them.

"You should believe me," Harry broke in, his voice tight, "because I was there. And I know that Draco Malfoy is not a Death Eater and neither is Severus Snape, and as long as you are members of this Order, you will never refer to them as such. Understood?"

Some people, the ones that didn't know Harry very well, were not surprised by the confidence with which Harry spoke. Others, the people that knew him, saw a Harry they had never known before.

"The Order of the Phoenix is here to defeat Voldemort," he continued firmly. "If finding out who ransacked the Daily Prophet will help us defeat Voldemort, then we ought to do it. It doesn't mean that we're not trying to find the Death Eaters that escaped Azkaban. I'm going to assume that everyone came here, just as I did, to find out what the Order is doing about these things. So if we're going to sit around and argue, if we're going to question everything that's said... well, we should just go home, shouldn't we? Because we won't defeat Voldemort that way."

It took a moment after Harry had finished speaking for McGonagall to find her footing and for silence to fall once more. She gave orders and collected reports, and for the most part, Harry found nothing useful in the information at all.

Finally, she called on Professor Snape. "Severus, what have you to report?"

---

From the moment the meeting had started, Draco was engaged in a whispered conversation with his ex-professor. "Have you bonded?" the older man asked automatically.

"We exchanged vows," Draco answered.

"Why haven't you bonded?" Snape asked in a manner that both made Draco uncomfortable and angry.

"Why does it matter? We're waiting."

"For what? Do you realize how vulnerable you are right now? No power, no bond, what if you were found? What do you think will protect you?"

Draco looked to Harry. "I'm not worried."

Snape grabbed his arm, bringing his attention back to him. "Don't be foolish. The bond will keep you alive and strengthen his magical powers. He needs it just as much as you do. It's foolish of you to wait. It is not safe."

"He won't," Draco admitted finally, fighting to keep his voice level.

"What?" Snape whispered fiercely, not caring when the witch beside him turned to stare. He moved them deeper into the corner and continued, "Convince him."

"I can't. He... it's difficult. I don't want to push." Draco tried to keep the sullenness out of his voice.

"Potter is difficult, but he has to know how important this is. It's not something he can forget about. He's not ready on his own."

"Why's it always about the Dark Lord?" Draco whispered angrily.

"Draco, everything is about the Dark Lord... especially with Potter." Draco's face darkened and Snape watched him closely. "Has he told you everything?" Draco nodded. "Are you frightened?"

Draco neither said nor did anything in response.

Snape sighed. "Our paths are not easy. The world we are forced to endure is not easy, but that does not mean that we stop enduring."

McGonagall called for Snape, and Draco slunk into the corner to listen.

"The Dark Lord is interested only in Hogwarts," stated Snape curtly. "He believes that once he takes the school he will be seen as victorious and the Ministry will crumble. After the events this June, he thinks he can capture it easily with little opposition."

McGonagall nodded grimly; this information was not new to her. "And the escaped prisoners?"

"Lucius Malfoy and a few others have returned to the Dark Lord's service. Malfoy has been ordered to find and kill his wife and son."

"Any word on the young Mr. Malfoy?" asked McGonagall wearily.

All across the room, knowing eyes met one another and people who knew the truth looked on and said nothing. A few were even surprised that the headmistress had not been told.

"I believe he is safe," said Snape flatly.

Harry, who had always believed Tonks had worked on Professor McGonagall's orders, met her eyes. She shook her head sadly and shrugged. Moody was watching Harry again.

"And the progress on Mrs. Malfoy's wounds?"

The witch sitting beside Hermione at the table spoke up, "Our newest developments show the situation to be better than we feared. The wound itself is not magical, but the spell protecting it is unclear. It seems that there is a way to lift it, we just haven't found it yet. But once the spell is lifted, the wound can be healed by normal means."

McGonagall nodded and the meeting continued. Soon it was over, and nearly everyone left. The Weasleys, Mad-Eye Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Snape and McGonagall remained with the trio and Draco.

McGonagall put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Thank you, Harry, for your support. And I must admit that I have been wrong. Dumbledore believed that you were ready to be a member of the Order, but I chose to ignore his wishes. I see my mistake and I hope to correct it. In saying so, I hope you will join us from now on."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Professor."

She squeezed his shoulder slightly and left. Ron whispered to his dad and the rest of the Weasleys were ushered out of the room. Ron and Hermione stood by the door and Hermione put the best locking charm she could on it.

"Lift the cloak, Draco," commanded Snape. Draco did as he was told.

"Why hasn't McGonagall been told?" Harry asked immediately.

Tonks sighed. "She... Harry, you have to understand, everything we did in Little Whinging wasn't under McGonagall's orders. It was Dumbledore's orders that we were following--that is, Kingsley, Remus and myself were the only Order members that knew. When it came to McGonagall's attention that Severus and Draco were innocent, well, she didn't believe it. It was you that finally got her to change her mind. When you saw Severus and accepted that he was telling the truth. But we still couldn't risk her knowing about Draco."

"How long has the boy been with you?" Mad-Eye asked Harry.

"Since school let out."

"And who else knows?" he asked, his eye interrogating every person in the room.

"Bill and Fred know," said Ron.

"And Kingsley," said Tonks.

"And Narcissa," added Hermione.

"Hold on," Harry looked at Tonks, "you said McGonagall worked on the spells for our house herself."

Tonks nodded. "For you. She thought you'd be there with Ron and Hermione. I don't think she's noticed that Ron and Hermione don't live there. In fact, it's what everyone thinks."

Harry looked guiltily at his friends.

"Is there anyone else that needs to know?" Mad-Eye asked seriously.

"Well," Lupin said, "does McGonagall need to know?"

No one seemed to know how or want to answer. In the end, they all looked at Harry.

"Eventually, the Order will need to know," stated the Chosen One firmly. "For now, no one else knows unless there is an emergency."

Everyone agreed and Harry and Draco were finally free to leave. Draco was stuffed back into the cloak and Harry led him out. They walked away from the house with their thoughts full, much fuller than they had been when they'd arrived. Life had been simpler for them until they decided to visit Grimmauld Place.


	13. Notice

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Notice

--

For the fourth day in a week, Draco woke up to an empty house. He opened his eyes and scanned the room, hoping for signs of Harry. Finding none, he listened carefully for noise from downstairs but there was only silence. A deep sigh escaped his lips and he pulled the blankets back up over his face. He wanted desperately to will away the silence.

He knew where Harry was and decided quickly that he would not go to Grimmauld Place that day. Instead, he would stay home and wait for Harry, to see if maybe Harry would notice his absence. He hardly noticed his presence, so Draco wasn't holding out too much hope.

He stayed in bed for an hour or so; he really wasn't sure how long it was. Time seemed to be moving slower than usual.

When he felt that he couldn't stand being in bed for another moment, he got up and took a shower. As the water pounded against his skin, he couldn't help but let some of his feelings surface. There was a tremendous pain building in his chest and it grew worse everyday. He just couldn't understand. It was impossible to understand.

They were fine, he could still taste Harry's lips if he thought about it hard enough, and yet, they weren't talking, and Harry was gone before he woke up and he spent the entire day at Grimmauld Place trying to figure out the Horcruxes.

Worse than that, every time Draco had an idea, every time he tried to be an active participant, Harry's friends shunned him. Harry never even bothered to defend him, his ideas, not even his mere presence.

The first time they had gone to Grimmauld Place Draco had brushed away his irrational fear of being left behind in favour of Harry's other friends. He had brushed it away because he had believed, falsely, that he shared something special with Harry that could not be brushed aside like garbage.

He was the one alone now, and Ron and Hermione were the ones with Harry.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He toweled himself off and threw on his bathrobe. Stepping back into his bedroom, he began to yank the blankets and sheets from the bed. They hadn't done the wash in a while, and magic wasn't the same as water and soap.

He piled all the linen in a basket and made his way down to the washroom. He loaded the sheets into the washer and used his wand to start the machine. With all the magic surrounding the house, none of the appliances worked without magic.

Draco went back upstairs and began to straighten up their belongings. He dusted around table tops, then decided the windows could use a wash, so he spelled a rag to do that for him.

Harry was probably having a grand time at Grimmauld Place, he thought angrily as he stuffed sheets into the dryer. Didn't _he_ deserve any happiness? Wasn't _he_ a worthy human being?

When the sheets were done, he carried them upstairs and made the bed. Once everything was satisfactory in the bedroom, he moved to the adjoining master bathroom. He set brushes and sponges to work and examined his fingernails.

It occurred to him he had become Harry Potter's house-elf without even thinking and he was surprised at how little it bothered him. He didn't mind cleaning house for a man that loved him. He didn't mind cleaning house for someone that appreciated him. Why he did it for Harry was anyone's guess.

The bathroom was spotless. Draco straightened up the few belongings that were scattered around the sink, put away the washrags and other cleaning materials and set off for the guest bedroom. It would only require light dusting, which he did without magic. He set the vacuum to work on all the rooms and ventured downstairs. The banister needed cleaning. There were definitely dirt marks on the railing and those were unmistakably cobwebs in the far right corner of the ceiling.

The first morning that Harry left without him, Draco had felt so panicked that he was nearly inconsolable when Tonks dropped in to escort him to Headquarters. When he arrived there, Harry only briefly apologized and said they had made so much headway, he wanted to get an early start. Draco had assumed it was a one-time event never to be repeated.

He cleaned and cleaned until his back ached and when the mop he had set to work on the kitchen floor didn't do a good enough job, he got on his hands and knees and scrubbed it himself. He missed lunch entirely, and when he finally stopped, having also missed breakfast before that, he felt the pangs in his stomach keenly.

He loved cooking in a clean kitchen. It made everything easier and more sanitary. He pulled out a Muggle cookbook and used his wand to light the oven.

As the oven ignited, Draco laughed softly to himself. He wasn't the useless idiot that Harry and his friends seemed to think he was. He had caught on to all the useless Muggle appliances they had. He had even made improvements. The toaster always toasted to perfection, nothing ever exploded in the microwave, and the dryer removed all wrinkles. Perhaps he wasn't able to discover Horcruxes or play chess well, but he was intelligent in his own right!

Sighing deeply, he diced vegetables and mixed ingredients and used magic to hurry along the process of marinating and slow cooking. When he was done, he had enough food to last the pair of them (or perhaps Draco alone) weeks.

He cut himself a generous slice the roast he had baked, along with everything else he had spent the afternoon cooking, but before sitting down to eat he carefully sealed all the food and found room for it all in the (newly clean) refrigerator.

Finally he sat at the empty table. He sat in his usual chair and stared daggers at the empty chair across from him. He didn't need anyone. He was perfectly fine on his own. He was a Malfoy. He was a wizard. He deserved respect and... Damn it, he didn't deserve to be treated like Harry was treating him! And it wasn't fair that no matter how much he tried to hate Harry, all he could feel was sadness. How could he love someone so much who didn't seem to love him at all? He plunged his fork into his potatoes and sighed heavily. Harry was heavy in his mind as he ate his dinner.

He was nearly done with his meal when the front door opened.

"Draco?" Harry called from the foyer.

Draco swallowed thickly and waited. Harry appeared in the kitchen and he tensed the moment he felt those green eyes on his back. There were a million things he wanted to hear Harry say.

"Why didn't you come to Headquarters today?" Harry paused, looking around. "Did you spend the entire day cleaning? I've never seen a floor this shiny."

Neither of those two were what Draco imagined. He would not be deterred by Harry's backhanded compliments. He stood carefully and gathered his plates. "There's food in the icebox if you're hungry," he said briskly.

He washed and dried his dishes by magic and put them away. Harry wrapped a hand around his arm as he tried to get past him.

"Draco?" Harry pushed the blond hair from Draco's eyes. "What's wrong?"

_What's wrong?_ Draco thought. _I'm falling apart! I'm a veela and you're my mate and I feel like I'm losing you._

Their eyes met briefly; Harry's were shining with concern and Draco's were flashing with indignation and a hint of sadness. He dropped his gaze and pulled himself out of Harry's reach.

"I'm fine, Harry." He left the room for the sitting room, where he turned on the television.

The 'sat-a-light' they used beamed mostly American programs, so Draco was able to catch an episode of Oprah. She was interviewing some movie star who had just been released from drug rehabilitation, or prison, Draco wasn't really sure which. He wasn't able to concentrate on the program properly, not with Harry _chewing_ loudly in the next room.

How could he just come home and pretend like everything was fine? As though they were fine. They were not fine. Things were not fine.

Draco changed the channel. He settled on the BBC, thinking that the news of the day would help keep his mind off of the git in the next room.

"There have been multiple disappearances all around the UK this week, including one in the South of Wales, and three in Scotland. Mysterious firecrackers have been spotted in various neighborhoods around the country as well. What are the police saying about all this? Stay tuned to find out!"

A pretty lady in a pink coat began to rattle off the weather forecast for different parts of the country, but Draco wasn't interested.

He turned down the volume and slouched back against the couch. He had a clear view of Harry from his position, which unfortunately also meant that Harry had a clear view of him. Their eyes met and Draco sighed. Harry swallowed and stood. He knew Draco well enough to clean up after himself, so Draco waited.

Soon enough, Harry was standing awkwardly in the doorway. He looked satisfactorily confused and guilty. Draco allowed him to take a seat.

Draco turned back to the television, just in time to see a picture of the Dark Mark flash across the screen; both Harry and he tensed and listened intently.

"This rather unusual symbol has been seen floating over several homes in the London area. The police have been unable to identify the source of the image but one thing is clear. The families in these homes have all mysteriously disappeared. The police are not commenting on the disappearances, only stating that they were doing the best they can. Yet, this does not seem good enough for most citizens. Many families have pulled their children from school, preferring to barricade themselves in their homes. The situation has become so dire that word of it has reached the prime minister. Yesterday afternoon, Prime Minister Tony Blair addressed reporters." The newsman was replaced with an image of the prime minister giving a speech.

Draco turned to find Harry watching him intently. He pulled something from his pocket and laid it on the table in front of them. Draco stared at it.

The gold was dull and dirty but the Slytherin symbol was clear and unmistakable.

Draco forgot to breathe.

"Kreacher had it," Harry said, beginning to laugh in a slightly hysterical manner. "I can't believe I never thought to ask him."

"Why did you bring it here?" Draco hissed.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"It's cursed, it's... Couldn't you have left it with Granger?" Draco asked, in near panic.

"Draco, it can't hurt you," Harry said, reaching out to comfort the startled blond.

Draco flinched the moment Harry's hand grazed his shoulder. Harry pulled away as though burned. Draco stared at the gold necklace, terrified. He just knew the Dark Lord was going to pop out of the thing. Hadn't he done the same with that blasted diary?

"Harry, please. Take it away," Draco pleaded with Harry but Harry would not so much as reach for the piece.

"Draco, if we left it at Headquarters, it could disappear again. It has to come here. Speaking of which, I hope you don't mind, but I've told Ron and Hermione they can stay here as we do more research. It's just safer all around."

Draco stopped being able to inhale. He couldn't get air into his lungs, and for a moment, he thought maybe the necklace was trying to kill him. He could, perhaps, with time and maybe a little intimacy, get over the fact that Harry had ignored him for a week. He could not, however, forgive inviting his friends to live with them.

Harry whispered a spell and the pressure in Draco's chest eased. He felt warm arms wrap around him but he could think of nothing else but that he was going to lose Harry. He was going to lose Harry and Voldemort was going to kill him in the middle of the night for stealing his locket. All things considered, he didn't know that he would really mind. Without Harry, there was hardly anything worth living for anyway.

"Draco. Draco, please," Harry cooed, his voice growing with anxiety. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong. Draco, I want to help. Please."

With a low growl, Draco extracted himself from Harry's arms and stood. "I want to stay at Headquarters with my mother."

"WHAT?" Harry bellowed. He looked at Draco, saw the scared look in his eyes and took a deep breath. "No, you can't be serious, Draco. You can't stay at Headquarters... Look, what's this about, really? You don't want the locket here? I can't leave it at Headquarters, not if Ron and Hermione are going to be here." Draco gave him a pointed look.

"Draco... is this about Ron and Hermione? Because I really thought you were going to be more mature about this. I mean, they have been trying very hard to understand and get along with you. You should be grateful."

Draco opened his mouth to retort, closed it, and felt his entire body heat up with suppressed anger. Hadn't he been good? Hadn't he kept his mouth shut? "Haven't I done everything for you? Haven't I been trying to make you happy? I have tried, Harry... I bend over backwards trying... I... how can you accuse me?! You tell me to be grateful? To-to them! For what?" He stopped, inhaling as much air as he could get into his lungs before releasing it.

He was so furious he couldn't see straight. Harry ignored him for nearly a week! Okay, nearly a business week! Then came home telling him he should be grateful to Granger? Seriously?

"I am going to Grimmauld Place. Not because I don't want to stay here with your friends but because right now... Right in this moment, Harry, I wish I hadn't been born."

He saw the stricken look on Harry's face and he could feel the regret starting to pool in his stomach but he had to go. He needed to prove to himself that he was still Draco Malfoy. He could leave if he wanted to, so he did.

He made it out the front door and onto the street. He Apparated without a glance at his surroundings and landed in front of Grimmauld Place. He heard POP! a second after he landed and he knew instinctively knew it wasn't Harry coming after him. He turned his head to see two hooded figures coming towards him.

"FUCK!" He cursed and ran for it. Midway down the street he Apparated again, this time to Surrey. It was the only place he could think of. There was no way anyone should have been able to know where 7 Cross Court was, or Grimmauld Place for that matter. And there was definitely no way someone could track where he Apparated to. Not unless... Draco reached for the Dark Mark etched on his skin at the very same moment that he heard another POP!

He couldn't keep Apparating, he didn't have the strength. He'd have to fight. He turned and raised his wand.

There was just one Death Eater this time and he laughed mercilessly as he approached him. "Draco, I don't know how you managed to become so stupid."

"SNAPE?" Draco's wand wavered. "What the fuck?"

Snape lowered his hood. "You had better be grateful that I was sent for you, Draco. I have been trying to stall the Dark Lord, but this is absolutely careless! What were you thinking venturing out into the streets alone like that?"

"I was going to see my mother!" he shouted. "How did they know where we lived?"

"They've been tracking Nymphadora Tonks for a month now. They can't see the house, of course, but they've been waiting for just this opportunity. The moment they saw you, they placed a tracking charm, so that they could follow you to your destination. Unfortunately, that led them directly onto the street on which the Order's headquarters sit. But we don't have time for explanations! I can't allow you to run, it'll compromise too much. I'll have to take you to the Dark Lord."

Draco drew his wand. "NO!"

Snape sighed. "More of them are coming!" he said through clenched teeth. "I have no time for your melodrama, Draco! Do you think I can risk going back and claiming that you got away... again?"

Without a second thought, Draco Apparated again. He landed in front of 7 Cross Court and saw a group of Death Eaters. Thankfully, they did not appear to see him.

"Draco," Snape said tersely, "the sooner I take you to him, the sooner the Death Eaters return to him as well. I don't imagine we have much time before your boyfriend decides to come find you."

Draco slumped his shoulders. He nodded.

Snape smiled nastily. "I hope, for all our sakes, that your situation with Mr. Potter has improved from the last time I spoke with you."

Draco sent him a deadly glare.

Snape's nasty smile turned upside down. "Well, I hope your boyfriend is clever enough to get us both out of this mess alive then."

Snape's fingers closed around Draco's shoulder and they both disappeared. When Draco next opened his eyes he was looking into the red eyes of a serpent. He was startled for a moment before he realized he was looking at a drawing of a snake carved into a large black door. The silver snake slithered around the frame and hissed as though it would attack them at any moment.

"Morsmordre," Snape whispered and the door disappeared. They walked through an old, grimy house, up the stairs and into what had to be a study. There were very few candles lit in this room, but the figure at the other end of the room was unmistakable. The Dark Lord, in all his splendid repulsiveness, sat in a high leather-back chair.

"Mr. Malfoy, how fetching it is to sssee you," Voldemort hissed.

"My Lord." Snape dropped to his knees and bowed his head. Voldemort continued to stare into Draco's eyes. Draco was a strong Occlumens but Voldemort was relentless. When Voldemort retreated, Draco was panting and sweat was dripping down his forehead.

"Very impressive, Mr. Malfoy, but you have made a mistake. Had I been able to penetrate your mind, I may have found nothing of importance and made quick work of you. Now, I will have to work harder, and once I do break you, and I can assure you that I will, I will make sure that you understand the consequences of your actions. Now, let's see... ah, yes. Where is Harry Potter?"

Draco, not trusting himself one way or the other, said nothing.

The Dark Lord waited, Snape watched impassively from the corner. A few minutes elapsed and the Dark Lord gave Draco an indulgent and very ugly smile.

"I see, Mr. Malfoy. I understand. Some of that Gryffindor stupidity has brushed off on you. That is fine. _Crucio_." The words dripped from his lips like laughter. Draco was ready. He'd been ready his whole life for this. The curse hit him and he let it course through him; he fell to the floor but refrained from screaming or pleading for it to stop. It was unimaginable pain but he knew it would only get worse.

Voldemort relented. "Very good, Mr. Malfoy," he said, sounding amused. "You will be just as fun to break as Mr. Potter has been in the past. Severus, when I am through here, I would like to speak to you. For now, you are dismissed." Snape bowed again and left. He did not look at Draco.

"I am very disappointed in you, Draco. Do you know why?"

Draco looked blankly at him.

"You did not trust me. Severus murdered Dumbledore and you ran. You thought I would not forgive you. You may not see this now, but I am merciful. You see, Draco, I marked you as one of mine. Many, many men have come before you. I have bestowed upon you a great honor and you betrayed me. You will not survive this day, Draco. And in the end, I will have gotten everything that I want and you... you will receive everything that you deserve."

They stared at each other. Draco worked as hard as he could to hide all outward signs of fear. _Harry will come_, he thought feverishly. He wished he was more confident in this. He never really knew where he stood with Harry.

"Do you know where you are, Mr. Malfoy?" Voldemort asked, circling him like a vulture.

Draco said nothing.

Voldemort laughed. "Ah, you plan on being silent all night. No matter, no matter. I shall make you scream, and that will be enough. _Crucio_."

Draco lost all control over his body as pain unlike any other spread through his veins and made him feel as though he'd explode from the force of it. He heard himself start to scream and Voldemort released him, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"I know things about you that you think you have kept hidden. I have always known what you are, Draco. A part-veela, the soul-mate of Harry Potter. These are not secrets that you can keep from me. I know them all. You are with him now; I see the bracelet on your wrist. Is that why you would not return to me?"

"No," Draco said quietly.

Voldemort smiled viciously. "No?"

"A Malfoy is not a servant," Draco answered proudly.

Voldemort laughed his cold high laugh. "Malfoy pride, yes, Lucius didn't break easily either. Wouldn't you like to see your father, Draco? I helped him escape just for you."

Draco said nothing.

"I believe that it will be him that kills you, when I am done of course." He paused. "Where was I? Oh yes, you and Potter. You ran to him and he has been protecting you. You have been very difficult to track down. I will admit, there is very impressive magic protecting you, but it, like all other things, has failed.

"What I want is for you to tell me what Potter is planning. I assume he is working on my destruction, but has he found any answers? I want to know his plans, Draco, and I can see in your eyes that you know but will not tell me, will you?"

They observed each other in silence. Draco rubbed the bracelet on his wrist distractedly, pleading with God or Allah or fucking Merlin to bring Harry to him.

"You bore me, Mr. Malfoy. _Crucio_." He held the curse for as long as it took for Draco to beg him to stop.

In the end, Voldemort smiled triumphantly. "Are you ready to tell me what you know?"

"No, you fucking bastard. Just kill me."

"Just kill you? Why Draco, you are not in a place to be making demands. You will not die until you have told me everything you know and even then, you will not die until you have brought Harry Potter to me. Do you understand? _Crucio_."

Draco's body writhed in agony on the floor. He couldn't help himself from pleading for the pain to stop, to just die. He was growing weak but he had to protect Harry.

It stopped and Voldemort walked towards him. "I will give you a break, Draco. You will stay here and think about what you are doing and I will return. When I return, we will stop these games. I will stop showing you mercy."

He left the room and Draco got gingerly to his feet. He looked around the room but found it bereft of anything but the two chairs on the other end. There was a fireplace in the room, but it would do him no good without Floo powder. He reached for his wand, where it was tucked in his trousers and tried to transfigure the chair into Floo powder; the chair turned to ash instead. He tried to Apparate, but that proved just as unsuccessful. There were no windows in the room and the door was magically sealed. He thought, in the end, of using his wand to Avada Kedavra himself.

His wrist began to burn and Draco let out a yell as he grabbed the hot bracelet on his wrist. What the fuck was going on?

He looked down to see that it had turned a fiery red. He tried to think back to all the books he had read on Destined veela. Were there any additional powers the bond created? He could think of none... but it was a magical bond, and all magical bonds give the individual parties the ability to send messages in cases of deep turmoil.

No sooner had he thought this than the door to the room banged open.

Voldemort sauntered in, and behind him his father was holding Ron Weasley by the scruff of his neck. Draco swallowed. He met Weasley's eyes. Draco imagined that his own eyes reflected the same panic he saw in Weasley's. Yet, the sight of Harry's best friend also managed to instill in Draco a tiny bit of hope. He knew Harry was looking for him and could possibly be worried about him.

"I appear to be very fortunate today, Mr. Malfoy. Just as I had left our earlier meeting, I found that your father had captured one of Harry Potter's friends. You have as yet been unwilling to cooperate, and maybe, if Mr. Weasley is more willing, I will be able to rid you from my sight."

Draco could not communicate with Weasley, even as the redheaded boy was thrust in his direction.

"I want to know what Harry Potter's plans are!" Voldemort shouted.

"We won't tell," Weasley said confidently.

"You don't think so? _Crucio_." Weasley fell to his knees immediately. He was unable to resist the spell in any capacity. Draco watched, in dread, as Weasley continued to writhe on the floor, begging for the pain to stop.

"Ah." Voldemort smiled viciously. "You have not felt such pain, have you... Ron, is it?"

Ron wiped the blood from his lips and stood. "Fuck you."

"Ah, poor manners, poor breeding, how unfortunate. _Crucio_."

Draco closed his eyes; he couldn't stand it. He opened his eyes and met his father's across the room. The older man looked weary and there was a glassy quality to his eyes that had not been there before Azkaban. Was he mad? Was there any of Draco's father left?

"Draco, I feel I have been neglecting you. Is there anything you want to tell me?" Voldemort asked, as Ron lay in a crumbled heap on the floor.

Draco met his father's eyes and shrugged. "Nope, nothing to tell."

"Insolent brat. _Crucio_."

Draco kept his eyes open for as long as he could, staring at his father, who watched in growing discomfort as his only son was tortured before his eyes. Draco may not have believed his father loved him, but he knew enough about Malfoy pride to know his father would not be made to look a coward before his heir.

Draco crumbled, falling the ground in a heap, writhing and screaming and begging.

"I am growing quite tired of this!" Voldemort hissed, letting Draco free of the curse. "I will not be so disregarded. I will give you until the morning. You will not eat tonight, and you will not sleep." Voldemort waved his wand in their direction and left with Lucius on his heels.

Once they were gone, Weasley turned to Draco. "You reckon he only knows the one curse?"

Draco laughed, and it hurt his sore ribs. "He knows that it's more effective and less messy than any other. He might change his mind in the morning, though, if he wants to do more permanent damage. Who knows, he might start taking fingers." Draco could feel his own distress growing, and he knew he must have alarmed Weasley, who suddenly became quiet.

"I offered to come," Weasley admitted.

Draco raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Hermione showed Harry how to use the bracelets to find you, but she didn't want him to first, so I volunteered. I was supposed to go back to let them know the coast was clear. I showed up at the same time as your father... I didn't stand a chance."

Draco nodded. "I had a fight with Harry and took off to Grimmauld Place, they'd been following Tonks and were waiting down the street. They followed me and Snape brought me in."

"WHAT?" Ron ejaculated loudly.

Draco sent him a deadly look and made a gesture at their surroundings. Ron quieted down.

"What time is it?" Draco asked. They sat side by side near the fire, Draco was too exhausted to mind Weasley pressed against his side. Every bone in his body felt as though it would break at his slightest movement. He knew, of course, that there would be more torture and pain in the morning.

Ron checked his watch. "7:43."

"Brilliant," Draco groaned.

"Snape let you have your wand?" Ron asked, watching as Draco pulled it from his pocket.

"Yeah, but it won't do us any good. Just try using it to transfigure Floo powder or something," Draco said sadly. "Do you know what really gets me about this whole thing?"

"What?" Ron asked, taking Draco's wand and hurling hexes at the door, all of which bounced off.

"I join the side of the Light, you know, and I totally throw away everything I've ever known and I can't even get laid."

Ron laughed. "He's that frigid?"

"He's a freaking glacier," Draco exclaimed.

Ron stopped trying to hex the door and examined him for a moment. "We're probably going to die, right?"

Draco shrugged.

"Well, just in case, there's something you should know. Harry thinks he's doing the right thing."

"Of course he's doing the right thing," Draco said dismissively.

"Not about the war, about you and him. Not shagging. He's being noble."

Draco froze. "What?"

"Hermione..."

"That bitch!"

Ron laughed. "She convinced him that you make him vulnerable and he should think about what a loss it would be to the world if he died."

"That's dumb," Draco replied automatically.

"Yeah, you and I know that, but Harry and Hermione grew up with Muggles, they don't understand bonds and stuff like that."

"You don't believe that?" Draco asked, genuinely surprised.

"No, I know what a Destined veela is. I know that what you and Harry share is real, and... well, Harry deserves happiness, doesn't he?"

Draco looked at Ron, pleasantly surprised by this turn of events. He was definitely 'Ron' now, and he was definitely someone Draco didn't mind dying with, should it come to that.


	14. To Everything There Is a Season

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling and dedicated to all who have supported this story.**  
**

**Chapter Fourteen**

To Everything There Is a Season

--

_"Draco, honey, I'm home!" The laughter in Harry's voice rang through the house._

_In the kitchen, Draco smiled to himself. He pulled a pie from the oven and called, "I'm in the kitchen, dear."_

_He listened for the footfalls to grow nearer. He felt the air rush out of his lungs as Harry came to stand behind him. Draco's eyes closed and he was glad he'd thought to set the pie down. He would surely have dropped it._

_Harry inhaled him as though he'd been oxygen-deprived every day that he'd been away. "I missed you," they both said at once._

_Draco turned and Harry caught his mouth in a kiss. _

_"God, how I've missed you," Harry said when they came up for air._

_Draco nodded and pressed his forehead to Harry's. "How was the trip? Was India as lovely as you thought it would be?"_

_Harry sighed. "It was awful. After the war, when I agreed to work for the Ministry... I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, we've done all this great stuff with lowering crime and corruption and all that nonsense, but they keep sending me away from you." _

_Draco smiled and kissed him on the nose. "I made dinner."_

_"Smells delicious." Harry's arms encircled Draco's waist. He had put on weight since Harry had last seen him, which was sort of amazing considering Harry had only been gone ten days. Harry's arms stilled. "_Draco_..."_

_Draco tried to feign calmness. He had gone rigid and was desperately trying to force himself to relax. He had planned to make his announcement after dinner, but he knew he could not escape it now. "Did I forget to mention that I'm pregnant?"_

--

Draco woke up on the floor, shivering. He was still in Voldemort's house. Ron was staring at him and he realized he must have been making quite a commotion.

"Malfoy... did you just say... You know what, never mind."

"What time is it?" Draco asked, not at all wanting to discuss whatever he may have said. He hadn't even meant to fall asleep. They didn't have time to sleep, they needed to think of a way out.

"Don't worry, you've only been asleep an hour. It's five past three." Ron looked tense and more frightened then he'd been earlier. "I don't even know how you managed it, I tried and couldn't even get my eyes to close."

Draco looked sheepish; he took out his wand. "_Finite Incantatem_," he cast, releasing Ron from the spell Voldemort had placed on him.

Ron laughed. "Thanks."

"Has anything happened?" Draco asked. Ron shook his head.

"I don't think we could hear if it did. There's a silencing spell around us."

Ron reached for Draco's wand, twirling it in between his fingers. Watching him, Draco felt like his hands were bereft and cold. He felt unexpectedly vulnerable without it. Yet, he couldn't ask for it, not with knowing that Ron had lost his own. Instead, he busied his hands with picking lint off his pants.

"Malfoy?" Ron called from across the room.

Draco looked up. "Oh, for the love of Rowena, you have got to be joking!"

Frustrated, Ron had begun throwing random spells at the room around them. None had worked until he tried a spell to make fire that Hermione had taught Harry and him in their fourth year. To both Draco's and his astonishment, it burned a hole through the wall.

Ron lifted his hand to widen the hole, but Draco stopped him. "What if..." Draco stopped himself. What if they _could_ hear them?

Ron's eyes widened. He turned to stare at the door, they both did. They both stared and stared, but no one came. Their eyes met and Draco nodded to Ron. He shot another spell at the wall. It took mere seconds before the hole was big enough to crawl out of. Draco stuck his head out and looked around. It was too dark to make out where the ground was. He moved away and Ron took his place.

"Too dark," Ron said, pulling his head out. Draco had dreaded this. He didn't want to use a spell, not without knowing whether or not anyone was lurking around. Praying for dear life, he stuck his head and wand hand out once more. "_Lumos."_ Just as soon as he'd lit his wand, he put it out. He saw enough to know they were at least three floors up.

"It's a straight drop," Draco whispered, "but this is our only chance."

Ron nodded. Neither boy moved.

"Look, I know a pretty strong cushioning charm. If that doesn't work, I also know some basic healing spells." This did very little to relieve Ron's worry. "It's the only chance we have," Draco added desperately. "We've got no choice."

Ron closed his eyes and nodded. "Cast the charm on me, and the ground outside, just in case." Draco nodded and performed the spell. It was hard to cast it on the ground outside because it was so dark. He just had to hope Ron made it.

Ron was halfway out of the hole when Draco stopped him. "Wait!"

"What?" Ron said, surprised.

"Cast it on me first, and once you land, recast it on the ground. Okay?" Ron nodded and quickly cast the spell. He went out the window finally and Draco poked his head out to make out the damage. He didn't so much as hear Ron's fall.

Draco closed his eyes and pictured Harry's face as he tumbled out of the hole. To his immense surprise and good fortune, the spell cushioned his fall nicely and he was able to get back on his feet with ease.

"Try to Apparate," Ron said. They both tried at once but were unsuccessful.

"We need to get further from the house," Draco whispered and they began to tread very carefully around to the front of the house. Draco spotted a light in the distance. One by one, the light illuminated ten cloaked figures. Draco grabbed Ron by the elbow and they began to run as hard and fast as they could.

"Please, please, please," Draco was begging in a heated whisper, "please let me live. Please let me live."

When they finally had to stop to catch their breaths, Draco realized that no one was chasing them.

"I saw a group of Death Eaters... they were coming toward us." An idea occurred to Draco. "You don't think that they really don't know we're gone? I mean, is it really that easy to escape?"

Ron shrugged. "Let's not bet on anything until we're about a hundred miles away, okay?"

Draco nodded. They walked another hundred paces before trying to Apparate. This time, they were successful. They landed in front of Grimmauld Place, which was swarming with cloaked figures.

It was Ron's turn to grab Draco, who stared on, dumbstruck. Ron Apparated them to the first place that came to mind. They appeared outside of the Leaky Cauldron. Not thinking this was particularly the best idea they could have come up with, but realizing it was probably good enough, they went inside.

Draco found a shadowed corner and waited for Ron to speak with the Tom, the barkeeper, and secure them a room and an owl. After a moment, Ron beckoned him over and they went up the stairs.

"Looks like we'll be sharing a room tonight. Got the bird so that we can send a letter to Harry and Hermione." Draco nodded, keeping his head down and doing his best to hide behind Ron's rather larger body.

They reached their room just as an elderly witch passed them. Draco pressed his face against Ron's shoulders. "Open the door, please. Hurry, please."

Ron nodded, opening the door and allowing Draco to push them inside. Once they were inside, Draco noticed that Ron looked surprised by Draco's behavior.

"I forgot you were a wanted man," Ron said, sitting on the lone bed in the room.

Draco took a deep breath. "I hadn't."

They stared blankly at the wall for a long time, gathering their thoughts. Draco tried to catch up with everything they'd gone through, yet all he could think of was the dream he'd had. He couldn't shake the feeling of happiness and it hurt so much when he thought of his real relationship with Harry.

Suddenly, Ron began to smile stupidly at Draco.

"What is it, Weasley?" Draco asked, annoyed with the superior smirk on Ron's face.

"You'll get your chance now."

Draco looked incredulously back at him. "What?"

"With Harry! You'll get to shag him."

Draco made a disgruntled noise. "He'll have to apologize first. He didn't even come rescue us!"

Ron laughed. "What'd you guys fight about anyway?"

"I wasn't arguing with him. I merely mentioned that I wanted to stay at Grimmauld Place with my mother," Draco simplified in an airy manner.

"And so you left?" Ron asked, amused.

"Yeah." Draco truly did realize how stupid he must sound, but it was too late.

"And so you're angry with him because he didn't want you to go to Headquarters?"

"Yes, that's part of it," Draco continued in a light voice.

"What's the other part?" Ron asked, pulling his shirt over his head.

Draco sighed, his resolve dwindling. "He doesn't even talk to me anymore."

Ron gave him that superior smirk again. "Because he wants to shag you. I told you. When Hermione told him not to, it only made him want to more."

"So he's just going to ignore me and drive me bloody crazy?" Draco asked sullenly.

"Harry's my mate," Ron said, still smiling, "but when it comes to relationships, he doesn't know his ass from his forehead. We have that in common, you see."

"Things not going well with Granger?" Draco asked, not really wanting to know.

Ron sighed. "She's just so intense when it comes to Harry and to... what we're trying to do, and it's hard to date that."

"I can fix part of your problem. I can tell you that from on, Granger is staying out of our relationship." Draco was resolved; it was time to take control of his life.

Draco pulled off his shirt and toed off his shoes. Ron looked between the bed and Draco.

"I'm taken, thanks, Weasley. Very uninterested, anyway. You keep to your end, I keep to mine, and we'll be fine."

Ron laughed and toed off his shoes. "You'll send an owl to Harry and Hermione?"

Draco yawned and nodded. "Sure." He looked longingly at the bed, but shook his head and sat at the small writing desk to pen a short note to Harry.

_Ron and I are at the Leaky Cauldron. Please come quickly._

_Love,_

_Draco_

Draco folded the brief note and tied it to the owl's leg. He carried the bird to the window and watched as it soared away.

Ron was fast asleep when Draco finally was able to pull back the blankets. He sighed deeply and turned in. He'd see Harry soon and they would work through whatever problems they might have. After all, they were meant to be.

Hours later, in what had to be the late afternoon, Draco awoke to frantic knocking on the door. Ron was still fast asleep beside him. Draco felt as though the Knight Bus had hit him as he gingerly got to his feet. He longed for more rest but the knocking refused to cease.

"What?" He demanded as he pulled the door open. To his surprise, Hermione stood there alone. She looked frantic.

"Oh, Draco. You're all right. And Ron... is he?" Draco pointed in the direction of the bed. Hermione began to weep as she caught sight of the peacefully sleeping redhead.

"Where's Harry?" Draco asked urgently.

She turned her teary eyes towards him and began to shake. "He's at Headquarters. He... he's talking to the Order."

"What happened to you?" Draco asked, concerned.

"We..." but she couldn't manage to finish. Instead, she sat down on the bed and began to sob. Ron woke up almost immediately.

"Hermione?" he called, reaching out blindly.

They proceeded to act out a scene from one of those awful Muggle movies Draco did not watch on Sunday mornings where women sit around crying in relief. There was definitely more crying than he really cared for. Granger howled in a most undignified manner. Draco tactfully chose to explore the bathroom for fifteen minutes while the pair composed themselves.

When he returned, Ron and Hermione were locked in a heated embrace.

"Um... Granger, can we go? I really need to see Harry," Draco admitted, surprised at the truthfulness behind his words.

She broke away and nodded. "Yes. But there's something I need to tell you... we, Harry and I, we found a Horcrux. We found the cup -- Hufflepuff's Cup. It was at the Riddle House. Snape helped us. It's very difficult to explain how it happened, but we just... Anyway, Harry thinks you'll hate him now, because we didn't go after the two of you. And he thinks... But, that's why he wouldn't come here. He's scared and I... you saved Ron and I can't... I don't know."

Draco didn't understand the moistness under his eyes that appeared after she had finished her speech. He didn't understand the lightness in his heart. He felt completely unbalanced.

"I was wrong," Hermione admitted finally. "You deserve him."

Draco didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. They gathered their things and left Diagon Alley.

"Wait," Draco said suddenly, grabbing Hermione's wrist to stop her from Apparating. "What about the Death Eaters, can they trace us?"

"Uh, I doubt they're going to care right now. We sort of burned down the Riddle House. Voldemort...he won't be pleased."

Draco nodded. He knew he should be asking for details, but he was too busy thinking about Harry and what he was supposed to do now.

Hermione grabbed onto Ron's hand and the three of them Apparated. When they arrived at Grimmauld Place, they found it completely devoid of Death Eaters. That was not to say that there was peace and tranquility; in fact, the entire place was in chaos. Hermione had Harry's cloak with her, but for once Draco felt that he could have gone without it. There were Order members they had never seen before, Ministry officials that Draco recognized from his father's dinners and many, many Weasleys. There was excitement, almost as if Harry had vanquished the Dark Lord, rather than fought a few Death Eaters and stole a Horcrux.

"It's because of Harry," Hermione said smartly. "They want to hear him talk and they know something happened yesterday."

"Was it in the _Prophet_?" Ron asked and Hermione nodded.

"A few Death Eaters were brought in last night, and everyone knows Harry was there and it's just... a good morale booster."

Ron raised an eyebrow at this but said nothing. Draco wandered into the drawing room, which seemed to be the ideal place for holding a meeting of this size. Witches and wizards buzzed around talking excitedly and looking at Harry, who stood in the middle of the room, like he was their messiah.

Draco moved to take Harry's side but stopped himself. What was he supposed to say? He saw that Harry was scanning the room, especially once Hermione and Ron entered. Harry went over to them straight away and embraced Ron tightly. He glanced around them, moving around so as to see if he would bump into something invisible. Draco watched from the other end of the room for a while, before carefully making his way out the door and up the stairs to visit his mother.

He opened the door quietly in case she was asleep but when he turned around, she was sitting up in bed watching him. She smiled serenely and he moved to her bedside.

"Draco, dear, I'm so glad you've come." Her smile did not reach her eyes in the way that it used to when she was pleased. Her eyes had dulled with age and illness, but Draco did his best to ignore it. He took his usual seat beside her bed.

He watched her and tried not to think of Harry. "How are you, mother?"

She tilted her head to the side, towards him. "I am not getting better, son. I think maybe it is time for us to discuss what shall happen when I'm gone."

With all he had gone through in one day, Draco could not take this. He turned away from his mother, his eyes welling with tears. "You'll be fine, Hermione will find the cure for this."

His mother's smile widened. "I dare say she would, but I am tired, Draco. I cannot fight any longer."

He turned towards her, not caring that she could see the tears streaming down his face. "But I need you!"

She reached for, and he gave her, his hand. "My dear, I will be with you always. You have Harry, he will take care of you."

He looked up at her, surprised.

"Oh, my poor dear," she laughed lightly, "in this house of my ancestors, you did not think I would know? I know it all, Draco, and I don't care. It is to Harry that I owe both our lives. I don't think there is anyone in Britain more worthy of you."

He wiped furiously at his tears, but they continued. "I wanted to tell you, I just... I couldn't. But I need..." He found himself unable to finish, the words were stuck in his throat. "You cannot leave me," he said finally, brokenly.

She smiled sadly at him and brought his cold hand to her warm lips. "I have never been more proud of you, Draco. You are now the man I knew you could become. You are not your father, and I want you to never forget that. Never forget that you are not the choices others made for you. You are still a member of the most noblest of houses." She stopped; she clutched her side and took a deep breath.

"I am running out of time, Draco. I want you to promise me, promise me that when this war is over, when Harry has defeated the Dark Lord, you will not forget who you are. You should never forget your ancestors. The Dark Lord may be wrong, Draco, but our ways... the life we lead, is not wrong. Do not let others think that it is." Her voice was strong and her grip on his hand fierce.

"I won't forget," Draco promised and kissed her hand.

"If you should choose to have children, and you should happen to have a boy, give him the Malfoy name. Raise him to be true and proud of who he is and always tell him that you love him. Never let him think, not for one moment, that you don't care. Be the father that your father never was and..." she stopped to pat Draco's hand and smile at him once more, "and the mother that I never was."

Draco immediately objected. "Oh, no, mother you were..."

"I was what, Draco? I was so cold and aloft that you could not trust me. I knew what you were, I knew who you were meant to be. I convinced myself that if I never told you, you would never find out. I knew you would go to the Dark Lord. I knew you'd be placed in a situation where you'd have to choose between love and duty. I shouldn't have allowed it."

He moved over to the bed, to sit beside her and stroke her hair. "You were a good mother. You have nothing to be sorry about. I was headstrong, I knew what I was, too, and I fought it. I won't ever blame you for anything that happened, just please stay with me."

She smiled her sad partial smile at him and Draco knew she would not stay. He lay down in the bed beside her and stroked her blonde hair. She closed her eyes, but he continued to watch her until the rising and falling of her chest had stopped.

It was there, about an hour later, that Harry found him.

"Draco?" he called softly from the door. Draco did not look up. He was not ready for Harry or for any part of the world to come in and take away his time with his mother. She was dead, and he was not in any sort of denial about it, but he was not anywhere near ready to deal with it.

Harry must have realized that Narcissa had died because he came in and took a seat in Draco's chair. He sat there silently as Draco continued to stroke his dead mother's hair.


	15. The Final Piece

**Chapter Fifteen**

The Final Piece

--

_I know that all you're asking for_

_Is a little place in my heart_

_But I don't find it easy to give_

"Who Am I" - Will Young

--

That evening, Draco watched as the undertaker collected his mother's body. Harry was there, not by his side and not in the way, but in the background, waiting. Draco had no idea how to respond. He didn't know where they stood and he was tired. The amount of Cruciatus curses he had been subjected to, coupled with only a few hours of sleep in two days left his body sore and his mind swimming with pain.

His pain and weakness made him yearn for Harry's comfort and support but he didn't know how to ask anymore. He could still remember waking up on the floor in the Riddle House after dreaming of Harry and having a family. It was so difficult to reconcile those feelings with the reality of the life they were living.

Once his mother's corpse was gone, he knew he had to go home. They left together silently and they arrived at 7 Cross Court just as silently. Draco moved about the house methodically. He went up to their bedroom and collected his night things. He showered and brushed his teeth. When he went back to the bedroom, Harry was there, not watching him but ever present.

Inspired suddenly, Harry approached him. "Draco, if there's anything... just, let me know. I know things aren't great right now but I--_I love you_." Harry reached out to touch him. Draco allowed him to caress his cheek for a moment before he pulled away. It was too much.

Draco shifted from one foot to the other.

"I think I'll try the guest bedroom tonight," he said finally. He tried not to notice the sad, confused look on Harry's face. He ignored the guilt that settled in his stomach and left. He needed a restful night's sleep. He didn't think he would be able to manage it in a bed so close to Harry and feeling so far away.

He slid into the cold, crisp guest sheets and let the hollow sound in his mind lull him to sleep. The morning would come and with it there would be Harry, his mother's death, and her burial at Grimmauld Place--the house Draco was now sure was a house of death and decay.

As he slept, he did not dream of children he would never have. He did not dream at all. He wasn't even sure if he was truly asleep. He woke, hours later, feeling just as tired as he had felt the night before. Fortunately, some of the ache in his bones had gone.

Harry was in the kitchen when Draco finally left the guestroom. Draco sat at the table and Harry set a plate of food in front of him. He was quiet and Draco knew he was waiting for a cue. He was being supportive. Draco knew it, but he couldn't accept it.

He sat for a long time, thinking of what to say. Where did one start in a situation such as this? He could say, _"Yesterday, when I was nearly killed by Voldemort, I had a dream about having your child and I think it's a sign."_ Or, _"Now that mother's dead, if you don't love me, I don't really see any reason to keep on living."_ The latter made Draco ache at the mere thought. Yet, it was true. There were only two people in the world that Draco cared for and one was now dead.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "You were right the other day. Ron and Hermione shouldn't stay at Grimmauld Place. They should come here to stay," he said softly, offering an olive branch. He hadn't forgotten their argument from before he left.

Harry nodded. "As long as it's okay with you."

Draco shrugged. "That doesn't matter so much as it being for the best."

Harry was confused, but he kept any questions to himself. He wanted to breach the distance between them, but wasn't sure how. So much had happened in the last forty-eight hours that it almost seemed as though had been apart for years, rather than days. They continued their meal in silence.

Draco stole a look at Harry who was staring morosely into his porridge. "There are burial plots behind Grimmauld Place. It's where my great aunt is buried. I think we should bury my mother there, too. Soon, please." Draco spoke quietly and carefully. He had pondered his mother's burial all evening the day before and had come to the conclusion that it had to be done at Grimmauld Place. "We don't need to have a ceremony or anything."

Harry nodded and put down his spoon. There was nothing he could say. He could not console Draco because he didn't know how. He knew what it felt like to lose someone and he knew that any consolation was inadequate.

Draco wanted something from Harry but he didn't know what it was. He wanted to hear him argue with him or to hear him offer some sort of consolation. He couldn't stand the silence; they'd had enough silence in the week that had passed. Draco pushed his plate away. "I don't like this, Harry."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Draco sighed. "I mean this rift between us, I can't stand it."

"Well," Harry started, leaning back in his chair, "maybe we should talk about what's happened."

Draco nodded. It was a start. "I just want to know what happened, because it was only a week ago that you would spend every moment with me and I felt like we were finally connecting. Then one day, you're not there when I wake up in the morning and you wouldn't talk to me. I felt like I'd done something wrong and I don't know what it was."

Harry shook his head. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. Please don't blame yourself. It was..." he stopped, taking a deep breath. "We were moving fast and I... I wasn't ready. I was scared."

Draco tightened his jaw. He knew what had happened, what Granger had done. "You didn't say... I wasn't going to force you. I can't force you."

Harry turned away, a pink tinge coloring his face. "I would never be able to stop you, Draco. If you asked, I would have given you anything."

Draco sat for a moment, contemplating Harry's words. Was he trying to say that he felt like Draco was forcing him? Was he saying that he wanted Draco but couldn't give in? Or, was he just being a coward?

"There's something I have to say. I wish it didn't have to be today, not with... everything, but I can't..." He didn't know what he could not do, he wasn't even sure he knew what he was saying. He just had to say _something_. "I think by now you know just as much as I do about being a veela. I think you know that I can't accept that you're pushing me away from you so that you don't feel temptation." Draco's voice was rising with every moment. "I can't accept that. I can't deal with... you can't say you'd never be able to stop me or that you'd give me anything AND CONTINUE TO DENY ME THE ONLY THING I'VE EVER ASKED OF YOU!" Draco stopped; he was yelling. He was losing control of himself and he started to feel tension in his chest.

"I can't breathe!" he said shrilly, standing. "My mother knew about us!" he screamed at Harry.

"Before she died, she asked me to give my heir the Malfoy name. That was my mother's dying wish but I can't have an heir, can I? Not even if I wanted to. I can't have anything. _I can't have you_." The veela blood coursing through his veins was pleading with him to end it, to end his suffering once and for all.

Harry folded his hands in his lap and said nothing. If Draco wanted to deal with his mother's death by getting angry, that was fine. Harry knew he probably deserved to be yelled at. Yet, he could not argue back. He could not give Draco any more pain.

Draco was at his wit's end. Harry wasn't responding. It was almost as if he didn't care that Draco was upset. "I can't go on, Harry. Look at us. We're so ready to give up anything for the cause. You've given... everything." His voice dropped to a quiet rumble. "I've given you everything. I've only asked for one thing."

A tear escaped Harry's otherwise impassive eyes.

"I'm going to ask you for that one thing directly. When you answer, I want you to really think it through. I want you to understand that the answer you give me will seal our fate. Do you understand?" Draco questioned him with steely eyes and a ready heart.

Harry shook his head. "Draco, please, think about what you're doing. I know you're angry. I know you're hurt. I've been there. But right now, in this moment, do you really want to do this? I won't say no to you, I'll give you anything because I _need_ you. I love you and I know I fucked up the other day. I know I'm never enough." Harry took a deep breath and allowed his emotions to overcome him. "I know that if things had been different, you wouldn't have chosen to spend your life with me because even if I didn't have this target on my head, even if I were some average bloke, I still wouldn't be able to give you what you need. I would still be an emotional nitwit."

Harry stopped to drink from his tea, but he was not finished. "I know what you want from me, and every day, when I look at you, I want nothing more than to have you. The thing that stops me is that I know I'm not going to survive Voldemort and when that happens, I want to know that you'll survive me."

Draco, his face hot and wet, was watching the food on his plate. His stomach was clenched tightly and he hated feeling scared. "There's nothing you can do to stop me from dying with you, Harry. I know you don't like it, but I'm already in." Draco looked up but Harry wouldn't meet his eyes.

"When you left the other day--" Harry's voice shook, "--I thought I'd lost you. In that moment, I regretted more than anything that we hadn't bonded because I didn't want to live without you. When we got to the Riddle House, Snape was waiting for us. He told us you were safe. I wanted to go find you and I was going to tell you that I was ready to bond. Then, we couldn't go find you because we had an opportunity to look for a Horcrux and we took it. Snape said you were alive and safe, but we knew that could change. I risked your life to find the Horcrux. I could have lost you and found nothing, but I knew I had to search--that's my purpose in life. The Horcrux was in the cellar, we found it just as Voldemort and his inner circle came back to the house. Hermione's quick thinking got us out alive, thankfully. When I left that house, I still had no idea where you were. The house was on fire when we left and it wasn't until I got your letter that I knew you were alive. Is that the kind of man you want to be with?" Harry asked panic and hysteria were laced through every word.

Draco couldn't deny the pain that this story caused him. Still, he had his resolve. "You put your trust in me that I would make it out all right. You did the right thing, Harry. That makes you exactly the man that I want to be with."

Harry shook his head forcefully. "No, I'm not."

Unable to control himself, Draco slammed his fist onto the table. "Damn it, Harry! I don't have anything but you. I don't live without you. I don't give a damn about Voldemort and the Horcruxes. If you love me, right now, we finish this."

Harry put a hand to interrupt. "Draco, please..."

"No, Harry, this is it. I want to complete this bond. I want to feel like myself again. I don't want to be this shell of a person." Angry tears rolled down Draco's cream-colored skin. He wanted security, he wanted love and there was no other way for him.

"Will you bond with me or not?" Draco asked, his voice thick with tears. His magic was pulsing in his veins. His heart stopped for the second or two of complete silence. He felt like a string about to snap. If Harry said no, he would surely break in half.

Harry closed his eyes, his entire body shaking with fear. Yet, it was clear to him that he could not lose Draco. Barely perceptible, he began to nod.

"Yes," he said hoarsely.

Draco felt so many things at once that it was hard to keep them straight. He felt the grief of losing his mother run through him once more but he also felt comforted and safe in the knowledge that he was to have Harry. He felt the usual guilt and regret that came with having forced the answer out of his lover, but he knew it had to be done. He felt the strength and righteousness of finally having done the right thing.

Harry was despondent, tired and weary. He had no idea of what was to happen. He could only think of losing Draco. He hated himself because he couldn't be a stronger person. He was making a mistake--they both were--but he couldn't fight Draco.

"Today," Draco added, looking down at his cold bowl of porridge.

"Today," Harry answered, his voice tight and angry.

Just as Harry was about to rise from the table, Draco called him back. "I won't apologize for what I've done, Harry. I only hope that you understand that I had to do it. I think, in the end, we've made the right choice."

Harry shook his head, staring sadly at Draco. "No, I don't think we have."

Draco felt his lower lip quiver. He was so tired of crying. He nodded to Harry and walked out of the kitchen. He went to the couch and turned the television on. He could barely press the buttons because his hands were shaking and the scene was so familiar to him that it almost made him sick. He wouldn't run away this time or ever again.

Harry went upstairs and Draco heard the door to their bedroom slam shut.

He had done the right thing, he told himself. If he had to remind himself of it every day, then that was what he'd do.

He watched the tell-a-vision until his eyes hurt and then when he thought the inevitable could not be put off for any longer, he went upstairs.

He opened the door softly. He saw Harry at the desk, penning a letter. He'd heard Draco come in; his shoulders had stiffened immediately. Draco walked to him and put his hands on Harry's broad shoulders. Harry shrugged them off.

Draco backed away, his eyes stinging. Harry, his hands visibly shaking, stood.

"You don't get to make this all right, Draco. I'll give you want to you want, but you don't get to feel okay about it."

Draco nodded and did his best to act unaffected. He'd asked for it. He did it, he had to follow through. He closed his eyes and pretended that things were different, that he hadn't manipulated Harry into completing the bond out of pity. He convinced himself that they were ready.

From that point on, he wasted absolutely no time. He closed the distance between them and began to unbutton Harry's shirt, watching as each plastic button was released. Harry was tense and still. Draco pushed the shirt from Harry's shoulder and kissed each shoulder before pulling his undershirt off. Draco quickly discarded his own shirt and began to trace Harry's collar with his tongue as his fingers worked at the buttons of Harry's trousers.

They were absolutely silent.

After a moment's hesitation, Harry brought his hands to settle at Draco's bare waist. He rubbed the skin there and found it soft and warm.

Draco smiled sadly against Harry's skin. He was intoxicated by every smell and taste that brought him closer to Harry.

Draco stopped to quickly remove his trousers and underpants and to coax Harry to step out of his. They stood there for a moment, bare and frightened. Harry had never seen anything as breathtaking as the boy before him but he didn't dare touch him again. Draco was not as hesitant. He had been dying to run his hands down Harry's torso, to explore every inch of the olive skin before him.

Draco turned them and guided Harry backwards onto the bed. There was something in the air that took their breaths away and it began to swirl around them. The curtains ruffled and Draco stopped to let the wind wrap around him. This was his magic, the magic that would guide him and the bond into place. Draco was watching Harry respond to the magic. He didn't know what Harry was feeling but he hoped it was every bit as good as what he felt.

The wind moved to the background as Draco brought his lips down to Harry's. A strong hand cupped the back of his neck, holding him in place, as if he'd rather be anywhere else.

They pulled apart, both breathing heavily.

The whispering wind around him compelled him to speak. "I love you," he gasped, pressing his lips to Harry's shoulder. He felt the electricity in the air as he spoke.

Harry closed his eyes and let the words wash over him before he responded in kind. "I love you," he said, he hands running over Draco's firm backside.

Those were the only words they spoke as they let the wind move them. The magic, suppressed for months, had them in its firm grip. Harry pushed Draco back onto the bed, parting his thighs and coming to settle in between them. Draco lifted his hips and closed his eyes. He felt intoxicated and he knew there was nothing Harry could do to hurt him except to stop.

The tears that Draco cried when Harry pressed into his body were from a happiness so pure that he thought he might die from it.

The sex was amazing. The magic gave them a supernatural stamina and sensitivity. Any touch was too much and not enough. They lasted until Draco was sure he'd die. When he finally felt release, with Harry inside him, he felt the last piece of the puzzle fall into place. He screamed Harry's name and fell into his arms, content. He knew the bond was complete because he could feel Harry's heartbeat under his skin, a part of him.

Harry pulled out and lay beside Draco. The wind had ceased and it was then that Draco realized his lover was crying. His tears didn't sound like tears of happiness or contentment. They sounded like the tears of a broken man and he felt them rack through his own body.

Draco's reaction surprised him. He could detach himself from Harry's emotions. In the months before, hearing Harry cry would have broken him. With the bond complete, Draco didn't need to fix it. Of course, he still loved Harry and hearing him cry took away any relief or happiness he had felt seconds ago when the bond had completed.

He felt like a complete arse. His mother had died a mere twenty-four hours before and he had dealt with it by forcing Harry to complete the bond. He didn't know how much of it was his own fault and how much was the veela in him yearning for completion, for acceptance. The fight from the previous day was still unresolved and the veela in Draco had needed reassurance. Even if that were the case, Draco didn't think Harry would ever buy it.

The effects of his orgasm were completely gone and he felt sick and empty. He couldn't listen to any more of Harry's sobbing. He wouldn't be forced to apologize, not anymore. He left the bed and gathered his clothing. He would spend another night in the guestroom.

In the morning, he listened for any sign that Harry was up and moving around the house. When he didn't hear anything, he quietly left his room. The door to their bedroom was open but Harry was gone. Draco was relieved. He didn't think he could deal with Harry at the moment.

He went down to the kitchen and pulled out a few pieces of bacon to fry. He scrambled a couple eggs and sat down at the table for breakfast. He woke up that morning with more clarity than he'd felt in weeks. He knew there was a chance that Harry would never forgive him for having forced the bond but Draco couldn't regret that they had done it.

During the night, Draco had felt Harry's warmth around him like a shield, protecting him. He didn't need to speculate anymore, he knew Harry loved him and he knew that they would always love one another, even if they never talked again.

Of course, he knew he would have to do some severe damage control to get Harry to trust him again.

Just as Draco was preparing to clear the table, he heard the door open.

"Tonks?" he cried, hopeful.

Harry stepped into the room, Ron and Hermione behind him. Draco paled. He had consented to Ron and Hermione coming to stay with them, hadn't he?

"Malfoy, you all right?" Ron asked, pulling a large suitcase into the room.

"Fine, uh, do you guys want separate rooms or do you want to share?" _Please share a room, please, please share a room_. He didn't know whether or not he'd need the other guestroom for himself.

Hermione turned pink. "We're not... Ron and I will take separate rooms, thanks." She was brisk, but Draco could see that her feelings towards him had changed. He only had to hope Harry hadn't had a chance to tell them what had happened.

Draco did notice that Ron looked disappointed by Hermione's answer. Apparently, one of them had high expectations for moving out of mom's house.

"Do you need any help unpacking?" Draco asked, taking his dishes to the sink.

"No, I think we've got it," Hermione answered, "but we don't know where to put the safe."

"Safe?" Draco asked, coming out of the kitchen. Then he saw it, a gold goblin-made safe, in the middle of his sitting room. "Why do we need that?" he asked, guessing that they planned on storing a few Horcruxes in it. He hoped he was wrong.

"We're keeping the Horcruxes in it," answered Harry shortly. "It's too heavy to carry upstairs. It'll have to stay down here."

Draco disagreed. "But Harry--"

"Malfoy, we're not discussing it."

Draco was terribly stung by Harry's harsh tone. He went back to the kitchen and let them get on with it.

"Harry?" He heard Hermione's soft voice drifting in from the open door. "What was that about?"

He really wasn't straining to hear the answer.

Harry dismissed her concern. "It's nothing."

He heard them climbing the stairs and he relaxed. He hadn't been expecting anything more, he told himself. He knew Harry was going to be angry with him. But what was he supposed to do now? Sit in the kitchen while the Golden Trio planned the Dark Lord's demise?

He took out his Muggle cookbook, _The Joy of Cooking_, and turned to page one.

--

It didn't take very long for Ron and Hermione to unpack their belongings. Harry helped Hermione unshrink all of the books that she had carted along with her. With that done, she suggested they go downstairs and discuss plans for finding the final Horcrux.

Harry shook his head. "We can do it here."

Hermione raised a brow at this. "Don't you want Draco to join us?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd rather he didn't, actually." He took a seat on the carpeted floor and the other two joined him.

Ron was watching Harry carefully.

"Harry," Hermione started softly, "are you sure there's not something you want to talk about?"

Harry sighed. Ron and Hermione were the two people he trusted most. The day before had been one of the most tumultuous of his entire life and he'd be a liar and a fool if he denied how he felt.

"We completed the bond," he said, finally.

Not having expected this answer at all, Hermione closed her book with a snap. "What?"

Ron couldn't help but grin. "Well, that's great, mate. I've heard that veela are really something in bed."

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked.

Ron's cheeks were the color of his hair. "I've only heard, Hermione!"

Harry couldn't help but smile sadly at them. "No, it's not great--I mean, it _was_ incredible. There was this wind and I felt--" he brought a hand up to caress his cheek, "--like I was being reborn. The magic--everything--was incredible."

Both Ron and Hermione were watching him with dreamy-eyed expressions.

"When it was over, though," Harry said, diverting his eyes, "I felt like we'd made a mistake. I hadn't wanted to do it in the first place, but Draco... he said... and his mother, I just couldn't... I've been resisting it but I knew if I turned him down yesterday, that it would be it and I couldn't lose him."

Hermione patted his arm. "It'll be all right, Harry. Maybe it was for the best."

Harry shook his head vehemently. "No, No it wasn't. The moment it was over, I knew. He knew it, too, because he didn't even stay." Harry stopped himself before he admitted that it had hurt that on top of everything else, Draco hadn't even stayed.

"Look, Harry," Hermione scooted closer to Harry, putting an arm around him, "we don't have to stay here today, the three of us... we could go somewhere, maybe do some field work."

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding his head and standing. "That's it. I just need to get out of the house."

Ron looked skeptical. "I think I've had my fill of adventures for the week, thanks. I'd rather stay here if you two don't mind."

Harry shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Hermione, on the other hand, was watching him shrewdly. He kissed her cheek. "Take care of yourself."

She nodded, embracing him quickly. "You'll talk to Malfoy?" she asked quietly. Ron nodded.

Harry and Hermione went downstairs and Harry grabbed their coats. She turned towards the kitchen to tell Malfoy they were leaving, but Harry stopped her.

"I'll tell him."

--

Draco was stirring a beef stew on the stovetop in between checking the brownness of the cookies in the oven, when Harry came in.

"Draco?" Harry called from the door.

Draco tensed and stopped stirring. "Yes?"

"Hermione and I are going to go out. We need to do some research. I'll be back soon." He sounded apprehensive and sad. Draco tried his best to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Okay."

Harry didn't leave. There was more he wanted to say. He waited and he knew Draco was waiting for him to either leave or say something. He couldn't find the words; everything was still too painful. Instead, he left.

Once the front door was shut, Draco couldn't go back to cooking. He was too caught up in the sadness he'd heard in Harry's voice. It cut through him and he was back to feeling just as awful as he had the night before.

--

A/N: First of all, this story is Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling, to whom I am eternally grateful. Second, Chapter Sixteen, which is actually finished, will be posted Saturday, April 7. I have every intention of finishing this story before Book 7 is released. And those are the only two deadlines I'm willing to give myself.

Remember, anyone that post comments holds a special place in my heart.

Last time, loves harry commented and said, "oh my god im crying for narcisa malfoy!" and I just want to say that I know everyone expected that Narcissa's death would be the worse thing I would do to my poor dear beloved Draco, like Kittendragon who wrote, "Hope life starts looking up for Draco. he needs it" and I know that chapter 15 didn't make things any better for Draco, in fact, things are probably a little bit worse... at least from where he stands with Harry. Annnd, I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry, I've always wanted to write a veela!Draco story because they're so much fun and then I started writing it and it's become really depressing.

In response to JennBenn3148 who said, "I'm kinda shocked at how easy it was for them to escape," you'll find out why it was so easy in Ch 16. Also in Ch 16, we will hear to conflicting theories about the key to defeating Moldy Voldy.

If you visit my livejournal (tranqui.livejournal . c o m) you will will find a list of songs that that inspired this novel.


	16. Destiny

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Sixteen**

Destiny

---

"Hey there, Malfoy."

Draco was sitting in the sitting room, quietly reading _Persuasion_ when Ron rudely interrupted him. Draco became so angry that he threw his book and squealed.

Ron stifled a laugh. "Did I scare you, Malfoy?" Ron asked, handing Draco his book. "Muggle novels?"

Draco blushed. "Didn't you leave with your girlfriend?"

Ron's eyes darkened. "No, I don't know about you, but I think I've had enough of chasing after pieces of You-Know-Who's soul for the week."

Draco smiled broadly. "You know, Weasley, I have always underestimated you. I always thought you didn't have your opinions. Granger's the brains, Potter's the leader, and you were like the buffoon that followed along. I think I may have been wrong."

Ron sat in the armchair across from Draco and laughed. "It's funny because just now I was thinking the same thing about you. I mean, all the pure-blood nonsense you used to sprout at school... and now here you are watching tell-a-vision and reading Muggle novels. So, have you changed or was it all an act?"

Draco pursed his lips, thinking. "Well, I don't exactly have much choice now, do I? I had Tonks buy me the tell-a-vision because I thought Harry would like it but Harry's never here and it gives me something to do. I know everything there is to know about being a wizard. Before this year, I didn't know anything about being Muggle, so it's like a research project. Can you imagine just sitting around every day, day after day?"

"I guess that makes sense." Ron grabbed a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ from the table and settled back into the chair. Draco tucked his legs under him on the couch and returned to his book.

_Yes; he had done it. She was in the carriage, and felt that he had placed her there, that his will and his hands had done it, that she owed it to his perception of her fatigue, and his resolution to give her rest. She was very much affected by the view of his disposition towards her, which all these things made apparent. This little circumstance seemed the completion of all that had gone before. She understood him. He could not forgive her, but he could not be unfeeling. Though condemning her for the past, and considering it with high and unjust resentment, though perfectly careless of her, and though becoming attached to another, still he could not see her suffer, without the desire of giving her relief. It was a remainder of former sentiment; it was an impulse of pure, though unacknowledged friendship; it was a proof of his own warm and amiable heart, which she could not contemplate without emotions so compounded of pleasure and pain, that she knew not which prevailed._

Draco sighed and sat down the book. "Tell me he said something to you."

Ron did not need any clarification as to whom Draco was referring to. He grinned and said, "Just the usual, 'Do you need anything?', 'Is this room okay?', 'Did you know I slept with my boyfriend yesterday?'"

Draco turned a deep crimson and Ron laughed heartily.

"What did he say? Let me think, oh right, he said, 'It was incredible. I felt like I was being reborn.'"

Draco refused to believe his ears. "Weasley, I think I'm starting to regret not leaving you in Voldemort's lair!"

Ron sighed. "I'm not lying, Malfoy. He said that. He also said he hadn't wanted to but you didn't give him a choice. He regrets the whole thing."

Draco groaned, putting his head in his hands. "Oh God. I mean, I knew, I just... he told you that?"

Ron nodded glumly.

Draco raised his head enough to stare at Ron. "He makes it sound like I raped him."

"Well, I think he might think that's what it was," Ron told him lightly. Draco was surprised that Ron could talk to his friend's rapist in such a pleasant manner.

"Aren't you going to pound me for it? I mean, I've molested your best friend... Oh, God." Draco covered his face with a cushion.

"Oh, stop being such a baby, Malfoy. You didn't rape anyone! I certainly don't think you did." Ron's tone continued to be light and amused. "Remember what I said the other day? Harry and Hermione were raised around Muggles, they don't understand this."

Draco uncovered his face and raised an eyebrow. "My, my, Mr. Weasley, didn't realize one of my fellow Death Eaters were present."

Ron was outraged. "How dare you--"

"Oh, just listen to yourself! I was joking!" Draco responded, indignant.

"I didn't mean... I just meant that we grew up in a different culture. Ginny has a whole collection of romance books about Destined veela. It's not something someone can ignore. Harry and Hermione... they think you can make your own choices, that things can't really be predicted, that there's no destiny. I know they believe in some prophecies, but in general, tarot cards and divination, it's all a joke to them. A bint like Trelawney is a joke, I know, but there are seers, there are signs."

Draco was very skeptical about this. "I wasn't raised by Muggles, and I think Divination's crap, Weasley."

Ron sighed. "But what do you think if you see a Grim?"

"Death," Malfoy answered automatically.

Ron ran his hands through his ginger hair before leaning forward. "I know what you mean when you say Hermione's the smart one and Harry's the leader. So, I shouldn't have any ideas of my own. But I think a lot of the stuff with Harry has to do with destiny and fate. The prophecy was made before he was born, and maybe it could have been about Neville, but I don't think so. You were born before Harry, right?" Draco nodded. "Well, there you go, who'd he love had been decided before he was born, just like the prophecy. I think it all has to do with you."

Draco nodded his head, skepticism still clear in his eyes. "Right, okay, Weasley. No more port for you."

Ron glared at him. "Listen to me. I don't think Harry could defeat You-Know-Who..."

"Wait," Draco interrupted, "why don't you say his name?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, affronted.

"Harry and Granger, they say his name, don't they?" Draco asked, curious.

"Well, I... I don't really like saying his name." Ron was growing frustrated. "Let me finish, all right?" Draco smiled and motioned for Ron to continue.

"Thank you. I don't think Harry could defeat You-Know-Who without having bonded with you first. And it's not that crazy of an idea, Draco. Think about it. Dumbledore risked his neck to save you. He also made sure there would be people to protect you at all costs. I'm sure he was looking out for Harry but he was also doing what was needed. I really can't believe you haven't thought about this, Malfoy. I'm really disappointed in you." Ron finished his speech, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Draco was shrewdly examining Ron and his theory. "He made a promise to Harry's parents."

"And? Sometimes we have to break promises to do what's right. Dumbledore was all about doing the right thing--what had to be done, even if it wasn't pleasant."

Ron had Draco's attention, that much was clear. "Harry would never buy this, you know that, right? That our bond is his secret weapon? He'd think we're both nuts."

Ron sighed. "I know that, but Harry doesn't really need to know about it. All that matters is that you've bonded."

Draco made a connection to Snape in his head. He looked at Ron. "Snape told me almost the same thing. More than once. I thought it was because the bond will give Harry more magical power and Snape doesn't think Harry can do it on his own."

Ron lit up. "See? That's what I'm saying. That power might be the key. Maybe without it Harry really can't defeat You-Know-Who. You didn't rape him, Malfoy. You saved his life. He'll be grateful, I'll bet on it."

Draco licked his lips and sat back on the couch. "There's only the one Horcrux left and the snake. He'll have to face Voldemort soon."

"Exactly!" Ron was nearly ready to combust from excitement. "You had to do it."

Just as quickly as Draco had begun to feel excited, he deflated. "But what if it just means he kills Voldemort and it takes both of us with him?"

Ron scowled. "Nah, that's not likely. It'd be too tragic, really. I mean, look at you, father out to kill you, mother dead, boyfriend's not talking to you. And Harry, he spent his whole life with his awful family, he's never had love and he lost his childhood because some crazy madman's been out for him. Killing you two off would be like beating a dead horse."

Draco rubbed at his eyes. "This is crazy. We can't really be talking about this. I mean, it's going to take killing Voldemort for Harry to forgive me? That's a little drastic."

"Well," Ron paused to clear his throat, "he does think you forced him to have sex with you."

Draco flopped back onto the couch. "Oh, God. Maybe you're right, my mother's dead, I've screwed things up with Harry--all in two days. It would be inhumane to kill me."

Ron picked up the paper and sat back in the chair. He chuckled to himself.

Draco, however, was not done moaning. "Do you have any idea how good the sex was yesterday? I mean, to get a taste and not be able to have it again..." He leaned back and ran his fingertips over his face. Ron looked away in embarrassment.

"Malfoy, if you need me to leave you alone..."

"No, no, I will compose myself." He picked up his book, only to sit it down a minute later. "I'm going to guess Granger hates me again?"

Ron shrugged.

---

"What field work are we doing, exactly?" Harry asked as Hermione led him down another narrow alley.

"There's a... Oh, here it is." Hermione looked admiringly up at a sign over a rickety old door that read, 'Wanda's Confectioner's Shoppe.'

"Err... Hermione?" Harry was confused about why they would need to visit a confectioner's shop.

She didn't seem interested in explaining. Instead, she rapped on the door and hushed him. An elderly wizard opened the door just wide enough to speak to them.

"Can I help you?"

"I think so," answered Hermione, her eyes glowing. "I believe you have a book that we have been searching for."

The wizard looked this way and that way before glaring at Hermione, "Where would you have been hearing that, eh?"

Hermione grinned broadly. "I was sent here by a mister Horace Slughorn. He assured me that you would have what my companion--" she shoved Harry in front of her, where he was clearly identifiable "--and I have been searching for."

He stared at Harry long and hard before opening the door wide enough to let them in.

"Horace was always a softy for a pretty lady," he murmured as he bolted the door behind them. "Sure you weren't followed?" he barked at Hermione.

She nodded.

He went into the other room, still mumbling to himself. They could hear him rummaging through papers and moving things around. He returned minutes later, a heavy tomb in his hand.

He looked past Hermione and straight at Harry. "With the wrong heart, the wrong mind, the magic in this book would be deadly. My boy, I believe it will be safe with you. Let no one see it, let know one touch it. Do you understand me?"

Harry didn't really understand but he nodded anyway. The book was heavy in his hands.

"Leave now, go somewhere safe. Do not linger," the old man warned. "I will have to move again, I think," he murmured to himself.

Hermione pulled Harry out of the house and set a brisk pace as they moved down the alley. "We've got to get back," she told him. "Hide that book."

Harry had neither a cloak nor a satchel large enough to store it. Hermione gave him her book bag.

"You have to carry it, Harry. It's the key, I know it."

Harry nodded dumbly and suddenly wished he hadn't offered to go on this little adventure with Hermione. It seemed as though every trip out of the house with Hermione was dangerous suddenly.

"Don't talk, we're going through Muggle streets and we need to blend in as much as possible, okay?" She gave him a look that brokered no arguments.

Harry kept his head down and followed Hermione's feet as they walked through London's shopping district. Soon, they were in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Go straight to the fireplace," Hermione commanded. "I don't care if Jesus himself is in there, don't talk to anyone."

Harry nodded; he found himself oddly frightened of Hermione. She was in her element and it was very scary.

Hermione bought their Floo powder and gave Harry his half.

She took her half, threw the powder into the fireplace and shouted, "Hogwarts!" Harry, more confused than ever, followed her.

They landed on the floor of the headmaster's office. Hermione got to her feet quickly and helped Harry up. She hugged him tightly.

"I've never been so scared in my life!" she declared, squeezing him tightly.

Harry pulled out the book. "What is going on, Hermione?" She put her fingers to her lips.

"Mr. Potter, Miss. Granger, how pleased I am to see you."

Hermione nodded curtly. "Good day, Headmistress."

Professor McGonagall sighed. "I don't suppose you'll be willing to tell me why you've used my fireplace today?"

Hermione smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Professor. We really must be going."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Go on, then."

Hermione grabbed a bit of Floo powder. "Cross Court!"

"What the--" Harry started, surprised that there was a Floo connection to 7 Cross Court. He noticed McGonagall's eyes and stopped himself. He took Floo powder and followed Hermione. He landed on his own rug in front of a very startled Ron.

Hermione was brushing dust off her shoulders. "Sorry about the mess, Malfoy. Tonks only let me know that this connection would be open this morning."

"What is going on?" the three boys said at once.

Ron looked to Harry. "You mean you don't know?"

Harry shook his head. "I thought maybe she told you." Ron shrugged.

Draco was sulking on the couch. "Of course no one would think to tell me that someone was going to come flying out of our fireplace. No, it's okay if the ex-Death Eater thinks the Dark Lord has come to kill him."

Ron sniggered.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Ron.

Harry was still impatiently waiting for answers. "Hermione, where were we just now?"

"The headmistress' office," she answered coyly.

"Before that?"

"A confectioner's shop?" She smiled sweetly.

"And why did Slughorn send you to a confectioner's shop after this book?" He pulled out the book. Draco stood to reach for it.

Hermione pointed a hand at him, stopping him. "Don't you dare, Draco Malfoy. I don't care if you and Harry are Siamese twins, no one touches that book but Harry."

Hermione looked around at the three boys. "First of all, I know Harry and Draco may not be on the best terms but we need all the help we can get if we're going to destroy Voldemort and the four of us are the only ones that know about the Horcruxes. So, and I'm sorry, Harry, but we're just going to have to forget whatever may have happened and work together. Second, we have until the end of the year to destroy Voldemort. We're in September. Right now, we have two Horcruxes that we don't know how to destroy, a Horcrux we don't know the location of and we destroyed Voldemort's lair so we have no idea where he's at. We've got three months to figure it all out. That's not a lot of time."

"Why do we have to destroy him by the end of the year?" Ron asked.

"The book," Draco answered, still staring at it. "It'll destroy Harry if he keeps it any longer."

Ron, too, turned to look at the book. "A book you got at a confectioner's shop is going to destroy Harry?" Ron laughed. "I'm sorry. It's not funny. It's, yeah, it's a bit funny." He looked at Draco, who started to chuckle.

Hermione looked at Harry. "Is this funny to you?"

Harry snorted. "I'm starting to question whether any of this is real."

"Of course it's real. The book will help you defeat Voldemort. It has all the answers. Only, it has a deadline. You cannot pass the deadline." Hermione's words were careful, calculated. "This is the key to destroying Voldemort. It's in your hands. It's keyed to you. Don't let anyone touch it."

Draco turned to look at Ron. _The key to destroying Voldemort, eh?_

Ron bit his lip. "So what is this book called? What does it tell you?"

"It's called _Liber Veritatis_--The Book of Truth. It holds the keys to magic itself." Hermione eyed the book lovingly. "It tells the reader how to create or destroy anything in the world. It'll tell Harry how to destroy the Horcruxes and then Voldemort. All Harry has to do is ask."

Ron and Draco began to look covetously at the book, so Harry put it back in the bag.

Hermione shook herself. "No one touches the book," she reminded them. "Now, I only found out about the book when we were at the Riddle House."

"Hey, you promised to tell me what happened," Ron reminded her.

Hermione looked apprehensively at Harry. He nodded for her to go on. She swallowed thickly. "Well, when you Apparated, Ron, we waited for you to come back. You didn't, so we followed--Harry followed you. And I wasn't going to stay behind. Snape met us at the door. He told us where you were, the exact room, how to get there, everything. He said Voldemort had an appointment he was leaving for--didn't give a lot of details. He said he could get the guards that were assigned to the cell you guys were in to leave. We would have the house to ourselves for at least a half hour. I didn't think it would take that long to get you guys out, so I convinced Harry to look around." She stopped and sent Ron an apologetic smile. Ron smiled reassuringly back. All was forgiven.

Harry was steadfastly refusing to look at Draco.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, it was an awful thing to do, but we noticed there were a lot of wards on one particular door. I couldn't get through it but Harry tried the same spell I did and the wards started to falter. It took a long time to get through that door. When we got through it, all we could see was a flight of stairs. We were well below the ground when we made it to the cellar. The cup was in the middle of the room." She stopped, recollecting some horrible thing she'd seen. "Of course, the room was full of Inferi. The cup was in a glass case. Harry lit a chair on fire and worked on the case. At this point, our thirty minutes were up. For all we knew, the house was swarming with Death Eaters but we couldn't leave the Horcrux. There wasn't a spell that either of us knew that would get that glass open. Then Harry cut his hand and it opened. He grabbed the cup and I noticed that it was sitting on a book that read _Liber Veritatis_. I had heard the myth about the book when I was trying to find information on Horcruxes. I picked up the book, but it was fake. It made me think that Voldemort was looking for it and if he was, I assumed that meant it was real. Anyway, Harry had the cup, so we tried to leave. The fire that Harry had used to destroy the Inferi had spread and the Death Eaters were in the house. We don't really know if Voldemort was there or not. The house was engulfed in flames pretty quickly."

Her eyes filled with tears. "I thought we were going to die. And then Snape was there, he called Harry a million names and helped us get out. The Death Eaters, everyone escaped and when we were far enough away, we saw that the entire house was demolished. He'll know we have the cup. I don't know what he'll do but we need to find the last Horcrux."

Ron went to her, taking her into his arms. She sobbed against his chest. "It was so awful."

The four of them took a period of silence to compose themselves. Ron comforted Hermione while Harry, white as a sheet, looked on. Draco wanted nothing more than to have Harry in his arms, to offer comfort, but Harry was unapproachable.

After a while, Hermione wiped her eyes and addressed them. "I wanted to know more about the book, so I wrote to Slughorn. He knew about Horcruxes, he had to know about the book. He did. He even knew where to find it. He said he owed it to Harry. The shop we went to, Harry, that man... he's an oracle. He's under all kinds of protection spells because Voldemort has been looking for him. We were only able to find him because it was you, because of your intentions."

Her eyes were still wet when she looked up at Harry. "I know this sounds crazy, but it's like destiny, isn't it? All of this stuff, it's all fated." She laughed and fell into one of the chairs. "It's finding that book, I think it's made me mad."

Ron and Draco were staring at one another.

Harry finally took a seat as well. He pulled out the book and set it on the table, open. He was sitting across from Draco and for the first time that day, their eyes met over the table.

The opening page of the Book of Truth showed only the name of the book. The next page was blank. Harry flipped through page after page of nothing until he began to think of the Horcruxes and how he would be able to destroy them without it and it was then that words appeared on the page.

_**The Magical Properties of Dark Objects**_

_A wizard who wishes to contain his soul in order to achieve immortality may do so by taking the life of another soul..._

_The magic involved in this process is extremely dangerous and should be used with caution..._

_The first step is..._

_If a wizard does not wish to create a Horcrux, but destroy it, he would need to extract the essence from the object. By removing the essence from the place it has found refuge, the wizard would be able to destroy the essence. The essence is a part of the mortal man and will die as all mortals die._

Harry shut the book. He didn't really want to know. He needed the last Horcrux and then he'd figure out how to destroy them all.

---

Once they'd had enough of Horcruxes and Books of Truth, the four of them retired to their beds. Ron and Hermione went to their individual rooms and Draco, after a moment of hesitation, followed Harry into the master bedroom.

The door shut behind them and Harry turned to Draco.

"What happened between us was a mistake," he spat. "It won't happen again. We're bound, just like you've always wanted and now we have to deal with it. I'm just grateful Hermione's found an answer."

Frustrated and angry, Draco lunged at Harry, swinging his fist in a manner that conveyed his true experience with hand-to-hand combat. The dark-haired boy fended him off, blocking a few blows before he managed to pin Draco's arms to his back. Harry held Draco's body against his own, eliciting a moan from the veela.

"Do you think you can fight me now, Draco? I'm stronger than you. I've always been stronger than you. You can't beat me. You've never been able to beat me," Harry snarled against Draco's neck.

Draco ignored the pain he felt in his arms and focused on the smell of Harry's sweat on the feel of his body. "You won't hate me forever, Harry. I'm your destiny."

Harry pushed him away and Draco fell to the floor, cradling his aching limbs. Harry went to the restroom and after a while, Draco heard the stifled sobs. He sat on the floor and pulled his knees to his chest, thinking. He gave himself a few moments before standing and opening the bathroom door. Harry sat on the toilet lid, his head in his hands. Draco fell to his knees before him.

"I told you once that I was yours, that I would be whatever you wanted, but I would be here forever. I meant that. You can hit me, you can treat me however you like and I will be here. I'll go sleep on the couch, that's okay with me. You think I've done something awful, tying myself to you in a way that could get both of us killed and that's okay. You can think that. If this all goes wrong and you don't defeat the Dark Lord, you can spend the rest of eternity blaming me, I don't care. I did the right thing. I did what _I_ was destined to do." Draco licked his lips and stared up at Harry. Those green, emerald eyes, met his and he couldn't resist reaching up to kiss each eyelid. "I love you."

He stood and left the bathroom. He closed the door quietly behind him and was startled to see Ron in the middle of the hallway.

"I transfigured the bed in my room into two singles. Don't mind, do you?" Ron asked, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Come on, mate. It'll be better tomorrow, I promise."

--

A/N: Excerpt taken from _Persuasion_ by Jane Austen.

_Liber Veritatis_ - The Book of Truth in Latin (thanks to Dana for the correction)


	17. The Taste of It

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Seventeen**

The Taste of It

---

On 19 September 1997, Narcissa Malfoy was laid to rest outside the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. In attendance were Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Andromeda Tonks, Severus Snape and Remus Lupin. It was overcast and the wind whipped around them, chilling them to the bone. The ceremony was quick. She was laid to rest quietly. Once the last bit of sand was shoveled, Draco thanked those in attendance and left.

Harry followed him. Ron and Hermione stayed behind to give the pair a bit of privacy. When Harry arrived at 7 Cross Court, Draco was curled up on the couch, sobbing into the cushions. Harry sat in the armchair across from him and waited.

Draco uncovered his face and reached for Harry, who went to him. Harry positioned himself on the couch behind Draco, holding him in his arms.

"Everything's going to be okay," Harry cooed, rubbing Draco's arms.

The last thing Draco remembered was falling asleep with Harry's breath against his neck. In the morning, he was alone on the couch and he and Harry were just as they had been before the funeral. It was as though Harry had taken one day off from hating Draco and had now gone back to work. To Draco, it was confusing and hurtful.

That day, they started their routine. For the four weeks that followed, the four occupants of 7 Cross Court woke in the early hours of the morning, took turns cooking breakfast and then retired to the sitting room where three large stacks of books and mountains of scrolls awaited them. On top of the table, the _Liber Veritatis_ would sit, and Harry would skim it intermittently during the day. After around eleven, Harry, Hermione and Ron would visit Headquarters, where they would listen to reports and attend meetings. Draco would make himself lunch during this time and do light reading. When they returned, well after lunch, a discussion would start. This discussion would last well into dinnertime. Mostly, they were searching for clues for the location of the last Horcrux. If, at the end of the day, they had a hunch to follow, the four would make plans to do "field work" as Hermione called it. If not, the day would repeat itself.

This process had been very fruitful. At the end of the four weeks, Harry had a general idea about how to destroy a Horcrux. Of course, he had not attempted it and would not until they were absolutely sure about every minute detail.

It seemed as though each "hunch" they had about the location of the Horcrux always gave them some clue for them to continue their search. The first place they had decided to search was Hogwarts. This search had taken three days, and in the end they had found absolutely no sign of a Horcrux. However, as they knew Voldemort had plans concerning Hogwarts, they were able to discover some weaknesses in the school's infrastructure. Hidden passages were sealed, vanishing cabinets were destroyed and wards were patched up. The Ministry had a fleet of Aurors and Unspeakables working at Hogwarts to ensure its safety, but there were many things that these highly trained professionals were missing.

After Hogwarts, they had visited the Muggle orphanage that Riddle had lived in. Draco had been sure the orphanage would be hiding the last Horcrux. However, the orphanage had been demolished, and in its place stood a Cineplex. One short trip around the movie theatre assured them that they would not find any Horcruxes there. What they discovered instead was that the Cineplex was built around 1971 after a freak accident had set the old orphanage on fire. Harry recalled that Snape had said the torch was stolen from Tobias Prewett nearly thirty-five years earlier, which was well before the old orphanage was set on fire. Yet, the 1970s were when Voldemort was at the height of his power, so it would still be possible that the fire was his work.

The last place they searched was Borgin and Burkes. This search had been a tad bit trickier. They knew the proprietors of the shop had close ties to the Death Eaters, so they had to be very careful about how they did their search. In the end, Draco used glamour spells to make him look more like his father and distracted Borgin while the other three, all wearing Disillusionment Charms, snuck into the back rooms and looked around. Ron found, on a shell in what had to be Borgin's bedroom, a set of cufflinks with the Dark Mark imprinted on them. Harry found, in a box in the dusty storage room, a letter from T.M. Riddle addressed to Borgin. Hermione found a book on how to shrink heads that she took so as to prevent anyone else from purchasing it.

Their escapade into Borgin and Burkes had brought them to a standstill. Though it was odd that Voldemort would create cufflinks with his insignia on them, they had absolutely no magical properties. The letter, written by a much younger Tom Riddle, had only been his initial solicitation for employment, which was answered favorably. The book on shrinking heads had been burnt immediately after leaving Borgin and Burkes.

Draco, in order to properly convince and distract Borgin, had asked after old wizarding heirlooms that may have been sold recently. Borgin showed him into a special room in the shop that held all of the most valuable items Borgin had been able to collect.

"Do you have anything that may have belonged to a Hogwarts' founder?" Draco asked casually, running an aristocratic finger over a silver goblet set.

Borgin raised an eyebrow at this request. "Anything that may have belonged to a Hogwarts' founder would be very hard to come by and very expensive."

"I can imagine," Draco said, keeping his voice cool.

Borgin leaned in to speak quietly to Draco. "If the Dark Lord has sent you, if he thinks I have been dishonest... Can you let him know... Just let him know that I am not hiding anything. He can search the place if he likes!"

Draco, his hands trembling, backed out of the room. "Now, Borgin, is that any way to speak to a customer?" he managed.

Once they were safely away from Knockturn Alley, Draco relayed his conversation to the other three.

Hermione spoke first. "Why would he still be looking for artifacts? He can't want to make more Horcruxes."

Harry had gone very pale and sat very still. "He knows they've gone missing. That has to be why. He wants to replace them."

"Then we'll just have to destroy him before he makes another one," Ron said, defiantly.

Harry nodded. His eyes were distant and, watching him, Draco longed to reach for him.

It had been a month since they had bonded and the only thing that seemed to be left between them was silence. Draco continued to share a guest room with Ron. In his loneliest moments, he thought of the time after his mother's funeral when Harry curled up beside him or of their bonding, which caused him more sorrow than any other memory. For if he thought long and hard enough, he could remember what Harry tasted like.

---

"That Cineplex, who owns it?" Hermione asked over breakfast on the first day of the fifth week.

"No idea," Harry answered. He was reading the _Daily Prophet_. "Oh God," he said, turning to Draco and handing him the paper. "Your father died."

In the corner of the front page Draco found it. The headline read, _LUCIUS MALFOY FOUND DEAD OUTSIDE MINISTRY OF MAGIC._ Draco scanned the short blurb quickly. The Dark Lord's work, that much was clear. He set down the paper with a shaky hand.

"Just call me little orphan Annie," Draco said snidely, returning to his cold cereal. He had eaten two spoonfuls before he had to push away his bowl. He looked across the table at Harry, who was watching him. Draco turned away. He was the last of the Malfoy family. Whatever man his father had been, Draco would miss him. He had not thought of him, not since the last day he had seen him, and he had made a vow to Harry that he had broken all ties with his father; but at the end of the day, Lucius Malfoy was still his father. This death, like the death of his mother, would have to be avenged.

Draco took a deep breath and turned to Hermione. He had been saving this for the right moment. "A company called TMR owns the Cineplex, I checked."

Hermione was so dumbstruck by the news about Lucius Malfoy's death that she had forgotten her own question. "T.M.R.? But that's..."

"The company was established in 1965. It owns five Cineplexes in the greater London area. Coincidentally, the company also owns property in Little Hangleton," Draco informed them with a grin spread across his face.

"Little Hangleton, Harry," Hermione spoke slowly, as if she was putting the pieces together as she spoke, "isn't that..."

"Where the Gaunt and Riddle houses were?" asked Harry, grinning broadly.

"Oh, my God!" Hermione exclaimed in joy.

Ron clapped Draco hard on the back. "Way to go, mate. Way to go!"

Harry was watching Draco closely. "This is what Tonks told you yesterday?"

Draco nodded, his face losing its happiness. "Yes."

Harry smiled brightly at him. "Thank you."

Draco nodded again, this time in welcome. His heart warmed at the sight of Harry's smile and for the first time in over a month, the smile was for him.

Once the excitement died down, Ron spoke up. "So what do we do now? We checked the Cineplex."

Draco cleared his throat. "That's the thing, I think we missed something. He wouldn't have put it in plain sight, would he? We didn't see anything suspicious because he wouldn't have put it where just anyone might spot it. We've got to look deeper."

"If it's really owned by Voldemort, we can't just break in..."

Draco shook his head. "No, but no one would question someone that worked there for looking around, would they?"

"Are _you_ going to pretend to work there?" Ron asked, stifling a laugh.

Draco was staring at Hermione. "We need someone who blends in with Muggles, who would probably be hired, no questions asked."

The other two boys cottoned on and turned to look at her as well. Hermione's cheeks colored.

"You want me to apply to work in a Cineplex?" she asked sheepishly.

Draco nodded. "We'd only need a week or two. And while you're there, maybe one of us can look around with the Invisibility Cloak."

"Why would Voldemort own a Cineplex?" Ron asked suddenly. "I mean, he hates Muggles."

"It's simple, Won-Won, he's not wanted by the Muggle authorities, is he? He had to buy the land from Muggles and use it as a Muggle establishment. He can't build an owl emporium in the middle of Muggle London anyway; it's too suspicious. He'd have to make it look real." Draco clearly had covered his bases.

"Why buy more than one, though?" Harry asked.

Draco smiled. "Money's money, isn't it? How do you buy your books, Granger? You convert Muggle coins into Galleons. Voldemort has to finance his side of the war somehow, doesn't he?"

"Sometimes we have these conversations and I feel like I'm in the twilight zone," Hermione said. "I'm going to go work in a Cineplex owned by Lord Voldemort so that we can find the piece of his soul that he stuck in Rowena Ravenclaw's torch. Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?"

Draco sighed. "It _is_ ridiculous. It's also ridiculous that four seventeen-year-olds are the world's only hope."

"So what are you going to wear to your interview, Hermione?" Ron asked brightly.

"Oh, I don't know but I think it'd be best if I did it today, the sooner the better and all that." She left the table and went upstairs to change. Ron followed her.

Draco stood to clear the table. Although he had trained Harry to clean up for himself, Ron and Hermione had yet to be broken in. Harry, still sitting at the table, began to help him.

As they finished, Harry placed a hand on Draco's hip. "About your father, Draco..."

Draco turned away from him. "Don't say anything you don't mean."

Harry sighed. "I only wanted to say I understand if you're upset. He was your father. And I... I know I've been a bit of an arse since your mum died, but..."

"Harry," Draco spoke softly, "I took from you what you were not ready to give and believe me when I say I wish it hadn't been like that. You don't have to apologize for anything. When you're ready, you'll forgive me."

Harry cupped Draco's chin in his hand; he smiled sadly. "I can't forgive you and I can't hate you. And I can't really figure out where that leaves us. I'm grateful to you for figuring out Voldemort owns the Cineplex and sorry that you've lost your parents. And I--I'm tired of pretending not to care about you."

Harry dropped Draco's chin and the blond took the opportunity to move closer. His body pressed flush against Harry's, he whispered, "I don't want you to hate me. I want you to forgive me, but I can understand if you can't. Just stop shutting me out."

Harry pressed his forehead against Draco's. "I miss having you next to me when I sleep."

Draco closed his eyes. "I can be there tonight, if you want."

Harry nodded. He pressed his lips to Draco's cheek.

The electricity between them was too much to bear; Draco felt his skin on fire with the heat of it.

"If you wanted me," Draco whispered into Harry's ear, "you could have me."

Harry kissed him again, softly and away from his mouth. Harry's hands were at the waist of Draco's trousers. "You're so beautiful."

Draco smiled and caught Harry's lip between his teeth; he nibbled lightly before devouring Harry.

When they pulled apart, panting and swimming in sexual tension, Hermione cleared her throat. She was standing at the door.

She wasn't able to look at them, but her face was clearly red. Draco wondered how long she watched. "I'm sorry, I'll just... I'm going. To the interview."

Harry, still holding Draco tightly to his body, nodded. "Good luck, Hermione."

Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "_Please_," he begged when she was gone.

Harry didn't need any clarification as to what Draco was begging for. He just didn't know what to do. His seventeen-year-old hormones were telling him that it was Draco, and he should because Draco was his to have _whenever, however_. His mind, which at times seemed much older than seventeen, was telling him that he was in a war and if he did it now, he'd never stop. He would be distracted and he'd never defeat Voldemort. But it was Draco and it was too hard to refuse.

He ran his tongue along Draco's outer ear-shell and then kissed across the sharp jaw down to the pointy chin. He tilted Draco's head up and kissed down to his neck. His hands were at Draco's hips, rubbing in circular motions. Draco's hands were in his hair, tugging with every kiss, every bite.

Panting and disoriented, Harry pulled away. As he had kissed Draco's shoulder, he had remembered the whoosh of the wind as they had bonded. It was the intoxicating magic in the air during that day that kept him up at night, his mouth dry, his muscles taut and aching for Draco.

"Yes," he said finally. Harry grabbed Draco's arm, ready to pull him out of the room. He did not expect for Draco to yank his hand out of his grip forcefully and howl in pain.

"Draco--" Harry reached for Draco as the blond boy fell to his knees, cradling his arm in intense pain.

"Dark Mark," Draco gasped. He hadn't felt it in so long, he'd almost forgotten the scull burned into his skin. "He's calling me."

All carnal desires firmly pushed aside, Harry knelt in front of his writhing lover. "Is there anything I can do?"

Draco began to spasm on the floor; the pain was increasing through his body. The Dark Lord had not called him since Draco had failed his mission; for weeks he had expected it, and it had not come. Now, when he least expected it, the call had come and it was more painful than it had ever been before.

"STOP! Please, oh God," Draco cried, "make it stop, make it stop."

His eyes began to close, and Harry, in a fit of panic, began to shake him. "Draco, wake up!"

The pain spasms stopped and Draco lay listless on the floor. He was barely able to open his eyes. "It hurts. He's angry."

Harry nodded, remembering when his scar would alert him of the Dark Lord's emotions.

"He wanted to hurt me," Draco whispered, still gasping in pain.

Thinking quickly, or not thinking at all, Harry hoisted Draco into his arms. He braced himself and began to stand with Draco wrapped around him. Harry was not a terribly fit boy. Other than Quidditch in school, he had never gotten much exercise. Draco's weight was roughly equal to his own, and though not much, it still made it very difficult to cart up the stairs.

Draco, were he not in so much pain, would have rejected, but instead, he wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and closed his eyes.

Ron had heard yelling and met them at the stairs.

"Did you try to kill him, Harry?" he asked, confused.

Harry shook his head furiously. "No, why would I... never mind, he's in a lot of pain. Can you help me?"

Ron, who was more able-bodied, took Draco from Harry. At the top of the stairs, he turned to the guestroom that he had been sharing with Draco, but Harry stopped him.

"Could you take him in here?" he asked, moving towards the master bedroom. Ron agreed silently.

Once Draco was settled in the bed, Ron turned to Harry. "What happened, mate?"

Harry told him about the Dark Mark. "We were about to... you know," he blushed, "but he yelled in pain and man... we were about to come up here."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "I thought you vowed never to touch him?"

Harry sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and dropping his head into his hands. "I get around him and it's like, I'm intoxicated by him. I've tried to stay away but his father's dead and I just... I only wanted to comfort him."

Ron grinned. "You're only human. There's not many men that could resist their soul mates. Not many birds that could resist Draco Malfoy, period."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"In school, girls were always all over him. Justin, too, come to think of it. In fact, Justin told Malfoy in fifth year that he fancied him. Crabbe and Goyle stuffed him in a trash bin in the dungeons. You never heard?" Ron asked, thinking back on the memory with amusement.

Harry shook his head. "You know I never listened to gossip."

"So, what are you going to do now?" Ron asked, sitting in Harry's desk chair.

Harry shrugged his shoulders miserably. "I don't know. Obviously, we're not going to do it."

"Obviously."

"It might even been a sign that we _shouldn't_ do it."

"Perhaps."

"Things don't have to go back to the way they were, I just... need to keep some distance."

Ron smacked his lips together. "Of course, because you wouldn't want to end up _bonded_ to him or anything... but, wait, you already are! Whether or not you continue to... you know... it's not really going to change anything. Might even make you happier, less uptight."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "No, no, I'll get distracted and we really don't need that right now."

Ron looked pityingly at Draco, whose heavy breathing betrayed the fact that he was not sleeping, but listening quietly.

"Look, mate, have you thought about how this thing between Draco and you could be good? Like, maybe it was supposed to happen so that you could win the war."

Harry let out a bark-like laugh. "Don't be ridiculous, Ron."

Ron scowled at him. "I just mean, it was an awful big risk Dumbledore made with Draco. Must have been a reason, dontcha think?"

Harry shook his head, his mouth downturned. "Dumbledore may have thought having the extra magical stability and strength would help me defeat Voldemort but I don't think it was make or break, not that serious. He was just following through on a promise."

Ron shrugged. "I wouldn't have done it, not unless there was something bigger in it. Because last year, Malfoy wasn't someone to be trusted. And then all of a sudden, Dumbledore risks his neck to save him. He had to think you needed Malfoy more than you needed him."

"Dumbledore always made those foolish mistakes though, didn't he?" Harry spat venomously. "He let Voldemort leave Hogwarts when he knew he was dangerous. He let Snape teach us and trusted him to the last moment. Quirrell walked around school with Voldemort's soul in his body for an entire year and Dumbledore didn't figure it out. He just trusted that he was doing the right thing. I don't want to make the same mistakes."

Ron looked down at the Book of Truth, where it sat on Harry's desk. "But there were still a million other times were Dumbledore was right," he said quietly.

Harry shrugged. "When he defeated Gindelwald, do you think he had a wife who was waiting for him at home? 'Cause I don't think so. I don't think he would have let anything distract him from completing the task."

Ron started to retort, but stopped. "Maybe he didn't, but with Malfoy's help, we'll probably find the torch. If Malfoy hadn't been captured, you wouldn't have found the cup. You can do with him whatever you like, you will anyway, but if it were me in your shoes, I'd be grateful to have him." He was disgusted with Harry and Harry was surprised at how affected Ron was by his statement.

"Is something going on, Ron, that I don't know about?" he asked, eyeing Ron carefully. "Is there a problem with you and Hermione?"

Ron sighed in frustration. "No, Harry. Hermione and I are fine. It's just that you can't get tortured with a bloke and not come out friends. He's my friend and I'm looking out for him. I won't lie about how I felt about him in school. He was a pain in the ass most of the time but he's not a boy anymore, Harry. He's your soul mate, for fuck's sake. You want someone who'll love you forever and always be by your side? Well, there he is," he pointed to the bed, "dying for you."

Harry wouldn't be swayed and Ron couldn't continue to argue, so he left. When he was gone, Harry took off his shoes and crawled in the bed beside Draco.

He kissed the sleeping veela's neck. "He doesn't understand how I feel about you. He doesn't know how I ache for you. I'm sorry that I can't give you what you want, but it's for the best, you'll see."

Draco, his teary-eyed face buried in a pillow, hoped with all his might that Harry was right.

--

A/N: Title taken from "Chills" by Peter Bjorn & John. The lyric is "Your tongue is sharp, but I miss the taste of it."


	18. Everything Under Control

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Eighteen**

Everything Under Control

---

Draco had expected to wake up alone. In fact, he had half expected that Harry would have levitated him back to the guest room. Instead, he woke, hard as a rock, spooned against Harry. His lover had him in a death grip, so there was no chance of Draco moving and making the scene look any better for Harry's sake. Instead, he waited, tensely, for Harry to wake.

He felt it the moment it happened. Harry's breathing pattern changed and limbs started to stretch, yet one arm kept Draco securely to his lover's chest.

Eyes fluttered open and Harry instantly noticed one thing--the happiness and calmness that he felt. He wasn't sure what it was until he looked down at blonde hair and fair skin. He remembered, quite sadly, the events of the day before. His worry for Draco, how close they had come to having sex on the kitchen counter, more worry for Draco and then the realization that things needed to continue as they had. Life would go on as though the day before did not happen. The only thing he knew would change was the sleeping arrangements. Draco was definitely not be allowed to sleep in the guestroom.

"Harry?" Draco whispered. "I really need to use the restroom."

Harry nodded against Draco's hair. "Mmhmm," he murmured, still not letting go.

"Harry," Draco hissed, "please." With a groan, Harry relented. Draco scurried off to the restroom. He relieved his morning erection and his bladder and turned to face himself in the mirror. He scrubbed his hands and then splashed cold water on his face.

For a second, in between scurrying off the bed and barricading himself in the bathroom, he had caught sight of Harry, moving into the warmth that Draco had left in his wake, his hair just as disheveled as it always was. He was exquisite.

Draco wiped at his eyes and faced himself in the mirror. "You are not going to cry today. No matter what happens, what he says. You are strong. You are a Malfoy. This will all pass. You must be patient." Satisfied with his pep talk, Draco left the bathroom.

Harry had thrown off the blankets. A pair of underpants covered his more interesting bits and a sheet was thrown haphazardly across his belly. He had shut his eyes again.

Draco quietly joined him. He adjusted his body against Harry's and kissed his lover's pale chapped lips. He felt Harry's mouth mold into a smile against his lips.

"Mornin'," he greeted Draco.

Draco kissed him once more, purely from the sheer excitement of being allowed. "Are you going to make me stop?" he asked finally.

Harry sighed. "In a minute. I'm not properly awake yet." Draco continued to kiss lips, cheeks, eyes, nose, throat, chin, ear, jaw, collar, temple, hair, neck, shoulders until strong hands held him at bay.

"I'm awake," Harry said, in apology. Draco nodded and moved away. It wouldn't hurt if he told himself it didn't, or that was the plan.

They went about their morning ritual in uncomfortable silence. Draco, in the course of the morning, realized that Harry hadn't changed the sheets nor made the bed in the entire course of his absence. This gave Draco a perfect excuse to stay upstairs and clean while Harry went downstairs and prepared breakfast. With him gone, Draco sat heavily on the dirty sheets.

He had heard the conversation between Ron and Harry the night before and had been awake through Harry's apology. He had finally gone to sleep accepting that things between Harry and him were still botched. He resolved that there was really only one man to blame: the Dark Lord for his wretched timing.

Draco quickly changed the sheets on the bed and tidied up. At least being Harry Potter's house-elf felt normal again. He followed the smell of hotcakes all the way down the stairs. Hermione was sitting at the table, in her uniform, a book balanced on her knees as she ate her hotcakes. Draco took a moment to bask in the glory that was Hermione's outfit. He felt all the pleasure that should accompany having been responsible for said outfit.

It was a dark red and white striped vest over a white dress shirt and dark red slacks. She had a red and white tag to match. A nametag was clipped to the vest and Draco desperately hoped the fez cap sitting on the table was the finishing flourish.

He composed himself and sat at the table, directly across from Hermione. "Excited?" he asked.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do not say anything about my outfit, Malfoy. Not unless you want to join Ron."

Draco looked to Harry, who had finished cooking and joined the table. "What happened to Ron?" Draco asked, sincerely concerned.

Harry suppressed a grin. "He laughed at Hermione's hat."

The book was slammed onto the table, nearly tipping over the carafe of orange juice. "I am doing this for the war effort. It's not like I want to be wearing that stupid hat."

Harry ducked his head. Draco nodded, empathetically. "Of course, Hermione. I would never dream of mocking your job... or your hat."

Harry coughed quite unsubtly and Hermione pushed away her plate. She picked up the hat and secured it to her bushy hair. "I'm going to work!"

Once the front door was slammed shut, Harry and Draco collapsed into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, God. That made everything worth it. EVERYTHING!" cried Draco, clutching his stomach.

Harry wiped at his eyes and shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth. Ron came down the stairs minutes later and joined them.

"_Ron?_" Draco asked carefully, examining him and trying, once again, to contain his laughter.

"Don't you dare laugh, Malfoy. Don't you dare."

Harry wore a pained expression as Ron took the seat beside him.

"I was just going to say," Draco said, collecting himself, "that your legs look amazing in that skirt."

Harry burst into peals of laughter. Pieces of egg flew off his fork, landing on Draco's shirt. He flung them back at Harry while Ron looked on murderously.

"I'm glad you find this amusing. Now, if you're done, will someone please get this bleeding thing off of me? I think she's used a permanent sticking charm," Ron said, his brow furrowed. He yanked at the waistband of the skirt but it would not budge.

Harry turned away from the skeptical face that Ron was making. He caught Draco's eyes. There was more longing and confusion there than he could deal with. He didn't really understand what he was demanding of Draco. They would share a bed, the same space, and weren't allowed to touch? He knew he was asking for trouble but not having Draco was unthinkable.

"What are we doing today?" Draco asked, polishing off the eggs on his plate.

Ron was pointing his wand at his groin in what promised to be a disaster. Draco couldn't watch. Harry also wore a worried expression as he eyed Ron's wand.

Ron whispered a vanishing spell and all the other two boys watched in horror as the skirt was ripped from Ron's waist. Ron yelped in pain as the fabric came unglued. The skirt disappeared into thin air and Ron was left bare.

Draco conjured a pair of shorts out of a napkin and threw them at Ron.

"Thanks," Ron said, blushing. He slipped the shorts on and dug into his breakfast with renewed vigor. "So, what _are_ we doing today?" he asked.

Harry shook himself out of his stupor. "We're going to learn how to kill a soul."

Draco looked at Ron, who raised an eyebrow. "Dark Arts? The Killing Curse?" Ron suggested.

Harry shrugged. "I don't think the Killing Curse is exactly what we need. But yeah, it's probably Dark."

"What does Granger think of this?" Draco asked carefully.

"She--" Harry scratched his nose, "--doesn't know. She thinks that we can find a way to dismantle the magic without using Dark Arts. I don't think we have that kind of time."

Draco set aside any glee he may have felt at hearing Harry disagree with Hermione and instead focused on his concern for Harry's safety. "Dark Magic... especially the kind that we're talking about--souls--it's very dangerous. It's a very high risk."

Ron also wore a wary expression. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked Harry.

"No," Harry responded honestly. "I'm not ecstatic about it, but I want the war to end. I want to be able to walk out of my house alone again. I want a life." He dropped his head into his hands.

Ron stood to collect the dishes on the table--Draco had finally trained him. "I won't argue with you, mate. I want this over just as much as you do. So, if this is what you think it'll take, then all right."

Harry nodded. "Thank you," he said. He turned to Draco. "_The Book of Truth_ recommended _Interficere Animus _(1). Are you familiar with it?"

Draco shook his head. "No. Does it tell you how to perform it?"

"No," Harry responded glumly. "I guess that's our task. Where do you think we could find a book that'll tell us what that spell is and how it works?"

Draco still had many concerns about using Dark Magic, but he decided that he would trust Harry to make the right decisions. "Hogwarts used to house books on this kind of magic, but I think since the Dark Lord and everything, they've all been destroyed--" he looked dismayed by the idea of throwing away old and valuable tomes "--you'd have to look in family libraries. I would recommend the Malfoy library, but there's no way we could get in... the Black library, perhaps?"

Harry nervously chewed on his lip. "Did we throw away any books when we were cleaning?" he asked Ron.

"Nah, not that I can remember."

Harry nodded, thinking carefully. "The book said the soul needed to be separated from the object. Once it's separated, then we can perform _Interficere Animus_ on the spirit that was removed. So, we still have to figure out how to separate the soul."

"When you make a Horcrux you have to separate half the soul from the body, correct?" Draco asked, thoughtfully.

Harry nodded.

"Well, what if the same spell or magic worked? What if we could figure out how to make a Horcrux and that would tell us how to separate the soul?" Draco asked, excited.

Ron licked his lips. "It makes sense, Harry. And it seems like the most obvious method."

"All right then," Harry said to Draco, "you find out what _Interficere__ Animus_ is, and I'll figure out how to make a Horcrux."

"What'll I do?" Ron asked crossly.

"Hmm... you can go with Draco to Headquarters and find the books he'll need."

Ron agreed. "Does the book tell you how to make a Horcrux, Harry?" he asked cautiously, knowing that Harry had been careful not to talk about what he had read in the _Book of Truth_.

Harry sighed. "It does but it's complicated," he said, rather vaguely.

Draco was watching Harry very closely, as the _Book of Truth_ was a subject that he was very curious about. He knew Harry spent increasing amounts of times with the book, but he never spoke about what he read -- not even to Hermione. He made sure no one ever came close enough to the book to be able to read anything, much less touch it, which was fine by Draco, but he didn't see any reason to keep mum about its contents. He had hoped Harry would talk about it and they would be able to figure it out together, instead of Harry taking on the enormous task of learning how to create a Horcrux all by himself. Draco refrained from saying anything about it because he knew it would not do any good. He was sure, in fact, that to question Harry about it would only serve to upset the other boy.

After a while, Ron and Draco made their first trip together to Grimmauld Place. The Weasleys had moved to a new house under Ministry protection--compensation for Percy Weasley's death. Without them, Grimmauld Place was nearly abandoned. Order members came and went, but as far as they knew, there was no one that stayed very long.

The library door was sealed and it took Ron and Draco a half hour to penetrate the wards. Once they were through, dust and cobwebs attacked them at every turn. White sheets covered the sparse furniture in the room but the books themselves were as neat as ever. They lined rows and rows of shelves. It could not be compared to the library at Hogwarts, but as far as family libraries went, it had to be one of the largest either boy had ever seen.

Ron walked across the grimy floor towards a row of books. He reached out to touch the books but Draco made a leap for him. "No!" he screamed as he knocked Ron's hand away.

"What are you thinking?" Draco demanded.

Ron gave him a bewildered look. "They're just books--" As if the thought that they were in the house of Dark wizards only just occurred to Ron, he grimaced. "Right. Sorry."

Draco gave him the most exasperated of looks. He flicked Ron with his wand. "Next time try to think before you touch anything."

"So how do you suggest we're going to find anything if we can't touch the books?" Ron asked curiously.

The thought had occurred to Draco. "We need to do a revealing charm first to find out what we're dealing with and hopefully, we can disarm whatever spells there are."

"And if we can't?"

This, too, had occurred to Draco. "All else fails, we'll bring in reinforcements."

"Hermione?"

"Right," Draco said, pointing his wand at a rather large tome on the shelf in front of him. "Well, here goes nothing."

As he had suspected, magic residue covered the books and the shelves around them. Draco was able to identify a spell or two but much of the work was unfamiliar.

"There has to be a way to disarm all of these spells at once," Draco said thoughtfully.

Ron wasn't listening to him; instead, he was following a particular red blotch of magic that covered various patches of the floor--it appeared to be growing as he watched. "Malfoy--" he said, as the red moved closer to them.

"What?" Draco asked, still deep in thought.

"I don't think the room likes us," Ron said, backing away. Draco finally looked at him, saw his frightened expression and followed his line of sight. He spotted the curse.

"Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed. Thinking wildly, he thought of the phrase he had always heard his father use when he wanted access to parts of the Manor only accessible by Malfoys. "SANGRE!" (2) he yelled, pointing his wand at the reddened floor. Quite suddenly, all the curses lifted--even the darkest, most sinister looking.

"It would seem that pure-blood families lack originality," he commented dryly to Ron, who was watching in amazement.

Ron let out a dry bark of laughter. "Is it safe?" he asked, still watching the books with trepidation.

His hand shaking, Draco reached for a book on the shelf nearest to them. He was able to pull it out without incident. As one that likes to brag, Draco grinned at Ron. "Stick with me, Weasley. I'll get you through anything!"

Ron laughed and they got to work.

---

When Hermione heard that Ron and Draco discovered a hidden library at Headquarters, she was jealous and angry. Her day had consisted of orientation with a middle-aged man who called her "pumpkin" and asked her if she'd be interested in having dinner with him whilst grabbing her bum and hovering around her.

Draco suppressed glee at the thought of Hermione in her fez cap and a toothless old man grabbing her bum. He excused himself immediately and set a silencing charm around the bathroom as he burst into unrestrained laughter. He would have done it at the dinner table, but he didn't want to end up wearing a skirt.

When he returned, Hermione was interrogating Ron about the library. "What exactly are you guys looking for? What types of books are there? Aren't they all Dark? How did Malfoy even get past the curses--there were curses, weren't there?"

Ron was overwhelmed and didn't know where to begin.

Harry laughed. "Hermione, your enthusiasm is scaring poor Ron."

It was then that Draco deemed to enter the conversation. "We just were looking for Dark spells that the Death Eaters might use, so that we can counter them when we meet the Dark Lord." Harry nodded.

"That's exactly what we're doing," Ron said, thankful for Draco's save.

If possible, Hermione seemed to grow brighter with curiosity. "And... what did you find?"

"Well," Draco answered slowly, "so far we've only been able to disarm the curses around the books. Tomorrow we'll start researching." He had no idea what excuse he would make the next night, but at least he had twenty-four hours to come up with something.

Hermione deflated. "Oh, well, my day wasn't at all successful. It's only orientation, so I can't really go off on my own to explore."

They had dinner, and afterwards, they retired to the sitting room where Harry turned on the tell-a-vision. The Muggle news, just like the wizarding news, was full of missing persons reports and terrorist attacks around England. The quartet avoided news reports when at all possible. It wasn't so much that they didn't want to hear them, but that they couldn't hear of disappearances while they were trying so desperately to find the Horcrux. If they heard, they would want to help and if they helped, they would lose the war effort. It was a choice between two evils and a subject that one never broached with Harry. So, they watched episodes of the American sitcom, Friends, instead.

Once they were worn out for the night, Ron and Hermione went upstairs for the night. Draco sat in the armchair furthest from the couch where Harry sat. He was lightly dozing when Harry shook his shoulder.

"Come up to bed with me, Draco," he whispered. Draco readily agreed, suspecting that he'd already fallen asleep and had begun dreaming.

"Will you fuck me?" he slurred as Harry helped him to his feet.

To both their surprise, Harry laughed. "Not tonight, Draco."

Draco made a whimpering sound and Harry pulled him into his arms, against his chest.

"You're always making speeches to me, you know? Maybe it's time I made one to you." He sat down on the couch and flipped off the TV. He pulled Draco against him, so that they were lying together on the couch.

Harry cleared his throat and began. "If you love me as I love you, I need you to trust me. I have a lot of responsibilities--I have to defeat Voldemort, and you know it. I can't be distracted and if we... We bonded, Draco, and it was beautiful, but I wasn't ready to make that step because I can't commit to you the way you need me to. Winning the war comes first, Draco, and I know that if I take you upstairs right now and we make love, I'm never going to be able to kill Voldemort. I know you don't like to hear this, but I'm not one hundred percent certain that I won't die. And if I do, I don't want to resent anything or anyone. I don't want to think about what we could have because if I did, or if I gave in, then I would die resenting that I didn't get to spend my life with you. I know this isn't easy for you. I know I'm asking a lot. I need you here, I need you more than I need Ron and Hermione because I'm so desperately in love with you, but I need you here as my friend. It can't be more than that. Can you understand that? I just want to protect you." Harry waited for a response, but received none. He looked down at Draco to see that the blond had fallen asleep, his head resting on Harry's chest. Harry gave a sigh of incredulity and eased Draco up into his arms as he stood. He was becoming remarkably used to carrying his lithe veela.

---

After about a week, the boys of 7 Cross Court came to the realization that Hermione's job at the Cineplex was far more amusing than it could ever be useful. Her coworkers detested her and called her a freak, she regularly cleaned up vomit and other sorts of messes left by the moviegoers and the manager continued to sexually harass her. She was powerless, of course; she could no more complain about her manager than she could shout at the top of her lungs that she was a witch out to kill Lord Voldemort.

She typically came home angry and with oil stains on her uniform and smelling of stale popcorn. Questions of progress made on Ravenclaw's torch were usually met with her patented death glare.

Ron and Draco's progress on the _Interficere Animus_ curse was far more fruitful. Not only had they discovered information on discovery and use of the charm, but they had also found plenty of texts on Dark curses and hexes to keep Hermione from becoming suspicious. Harry was mum on his progress on the Horcrux, and this was to be expected.

Though the three of them had once again fallen into a routine, they were all acutely aware of the deadline that was looming over their heads and it kept them all on edge. They all realized that at any moment Voldemort could come knocking on the door and all their work would be for naught.

On Halloween morning, one of their worst fears was realized. Tonks arrived at a god-awful hour and stormed up the stairs, waking everyone before she even made it to the landing. She entered the master bedroom first.

"Harry, get up, it's important!" she demanded. Harry sleepily rubbed his eyes and slipped out of the blankets. Draco watched with half-lidded eyes.

"What's goin' on, Tonks?" he asked, yawning loudly.

"Hogwarts, Harry! You-Know-Who's at the gates... we need all the help we can get," she told him. Her eyes were full of panic and fright.

Draco sat up straight in bed and was about to get up when Harry stopped him. "No, you have to stay here," he demanded, as Hermione and Ron arrived in the doorway.

They all listened as Tonks tried to relay all of the information that she had--it was patchy at best. They had little time to lose, and Draco steadfastly refused to stay at home.

"Harry, I can help..."

Harry snapped. "No, you can't help, Draco. If you go with us, I won't be able to concentrate. I'll be too worried about making sure you're okay... and I don't care if you think you can take care of yourself, this isn't negotiable."

In the end, Draco surrendered and watched as Ron, Hermione, Tonks and Harry left together. He waited approximately five minutes before finding Harry's Invisibility Cloak and following them.

He wasn't sure what he was thinking. He was never one to venture into a battle. He was always the type who hung back and let others do the dirty work when at all possible, but this was different. This was Harry.

He Apparated into Hogsmeade, a short walk from the Shrieking Shack. The streets were quiet; they had obviously been evacuated. Still, he tried to make the least amount of noise possible. Until he could hear the sounds of shouting and he saw that a half-mile up the road a battle was being fought between the Dark Lord's Death Eaters and Harry's Order. It was relatively easy to tell the good guys from the bad ones. The good guys were wearing Muggle clothing or bright wizard's robes, while the Death Eaters were uniformly dressed in black.

Draco ran towards the battle and crept behind the trees a short distance from the battle. The Order seemed to have gained the upper hand. There were many more collapsed Death Eaters than Order members. He kept a close eye on Harry, watching as he dodged curse after curse. Harry sent out a number of advanced defense hexes and Draco aimed a good stunning charm on a Death Eater trying to catch Harry from behind. Unfortunately, neither was able to deflect a slashing hex that cut Harry's arm. Draco felt the scream as though it had been wrenched from his own lungs. He stopped breathing for a moment, but then Harry was on his feet and continuing his battle. Draco looked away. At a distance from Harry, he caught sight of Ron, locked in a duel with his Aunt Bellatrix. Seeing her brought back the memories of his mother and what had transpired between the two sisters.

He aimed his wand. "_Expelliarmus_," he yelled and the wand flew out of her hands and fell at his feet. She shrieked and turned to see who had cursed her; seeing no one, she stalked towards the trees. Draco stood still and waited for her. He had his chance. He could finally avenge his mother. His blood boiled as he watched her walk towards him.

She spotted her wand and ran for it but Draco was there first. Making sure the large tree hid him, he pulled off the cloak and sneered at his once-dear aunt.

"Why, my little nephew, what are you doing here?" she snarled, continuing to stalk towards him. She had a mad gleam in her eyes.

"I'm here to avenge my mother's death," he said, raising his wand.

She laughed. "Do you think some poor excuse for a man can kill me? Oh Draco, you have not learned. I have the protection of the Dark Lord. He has trained me. I am invincible."

"Do you think so?" Draco asked, his voice tight.

She was glaring at him. "Don't be foolish, Draco. Give me back my wand and I will make your death quick and painless."

Draco didn't so much as blink. "I'm not the one that's dying today."

He mustered all his anger and love for his mother. This woman had killed his mother, her own sister. He could kill her; he _would_ kill her. He closed his eyes, keeping his wand trained on her. She began to laugh once more and Draco could hear footsteps coming near.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" he yelled. He opened his eyes and saw as the green stream of magic hit Bellatrix in the chest. Her mouth opened in surprise as the mad sparkle in her eyes faded and she dropped to the ground. Thinking fast, Draco pulled the cloak back around himself and moved away from the body.

The Death Eaters were Apparating away, only a few were left dueling with the still standing Order of the Phoenix. It appeared as though reinforcements had been sent in from the Ministry. He spotted Harry in the crowd, nursing a hurt limb but still standing. Ron and Hermione were also alive and well. Draco sighed and Apparated back home. He had done enough.

Inside the house, he put the cloak back in Harry's wardrobe, where he'd found it. He took off his robes and entered the bath to shower. He felt powerful and in control for the first time since he'd failed to kill Dumbledore. He was not useless, he could do what was needed. He had avenged his mother.

He had killed. He had thought himself too weak, and knew that others had thought him so as well, but he had proved them wrong. He was capable. It hadn't been difficult to master the curse. He only needed to want it, and he had wanted it. He would never regret wanting it.

He had done it, not only for himself, but for Harry as well. If he could kill, Harry could kill... or he could do it for him, either way, they would win this war. Voldemort was theirs.

The water was hotter than he would normally be able to stand, but for that day, he was able to bear it. It pounded against his naked skin and he inhaled the humid air and smiled. _We'll win_, he repeated over and over to himself. They won that day and it would only serve to boost morale. This war was theirs.

His skin was a furious red when he finally shut off the water. He quickly toweled himself off and slipped on his bathrobe. He stepped out of the bathroom and could hear the voices below.

"I don't know what happened, mate," Ron was saying, "it was like, she'd started to say it--you know, Avada Kedavra, but then she'd lost her wand and she went running after it... the next thing I know, her body's lying dead in the middle of the forest. Fuck if I know how it all happened!"

Draco quickly pulled on a pair of dark colored jeans and a navy blue t-shirt of Harry's; it was a little snug, but he was in a hurry. He quickly ran hands through his hair, drying it with his wand. He took the stairs two at a time before finding the trio in the living room.

Harry turned to stare at him. His heart rate quickened and he licked his lips. Draco looked positively edible to him. He was more radiant than Harry could remember him being that morning. Draco, still feeling the post-kill high, preened for Harry.

Hermione and Ron exchanged confused looks.

"How'd it go?" Draco asked, finally. Draco caught sight of the blood on Harry's face and noticed that the dark-haired boy was still cradling his arm against his chest. He moved towards Harry, healing the cut with his wand and smoothing the skin with his hands.

"What have you done?" Harry asked against his neck.

Draco laughed. "I killed her, Harry."

Harry immediately shoved him away, using his still fractured arm, and immediately wincing in pain. "You asshole! I told you to stay put!"

Draco turned away from Harry. "I wasn't hurt!"

"But you could've been! You could have put yourself in a lot of danger if anyone--from either side--discovered you! Was she worth it, Draco?" Harry asked him, livid with anger. His whole face was red and Draco could feel the heat radiating from him.

Draco turned back to Harry, his eyes cool and challenging. "Yes, she was. I'd do it again in a heartbeat... I killed her, Harry. _I _did it, just like you told me I could. I avenged my mother, you can't make me feel guilty for that--I won't!"

Feeling so frustrated that Draco had so blatantly disobeyed him, Harry raised his hand to strike, but before he could so much as breath, Ron had tied his arms behind his back, breaking his already swollen right arm. Harry pulled away with a howl of pain. He lurched forward again, closing his fist against Draco's shoulders.

"You disobey me like that again, and I promise even if I live to see one hundred, I'll never touch you again!" With that, he pushed Draco to the ground and stormed out of the house. Draco, breathless and shell-shocked, looked between Ron and Hermione who were just as frightened and confused. They had all felt the power swirling around Harry as he had stormed out of the house and each was contemplating the implications.

---------------

1._ Interficere Animus_: Murder the Soul, translated into Latin (thank you very much to Lys Sheridan and The Sherberty Lemon).

2._ Sangre_: Blood in Spanish.


	19. The Disappeared

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling**  
**

**Chapter Nineteen**

The Disappeared

---

_All this fear falls away to leave me naked._

- "Signal Fire" by Snow Patrol

---

Harry returned to 7 Cross Court very early the next morning. When he crawled into bed beside Draco, he smelled of sweat and alcohol, and Draco awoke immediately.

"Harry?" he called softly into the darkness. He knew it had to look very presumptuous of him to return to their bed. He only hoped the other boy was too drunk to be angry.

Harry wrapped an arm around Draco's waist and inhaled his scent. "I'm so sorry, Draco. I know what you must think."

"Do you?" Draco asked casually. He seriously doubted that Harry _did_ know. He did feel the dampness of Harry's face against his bare shoulder, and he closed his eyes to stop himself from turning.

"Tell me what to do," Harry said, doing his best to mask his sniffling. "How do I make this stop hurting? How do I stop worrying about you... and thinking about you? Tell me."

Draco stared as hard as he could through the darkness and tried to muster his courage to keep from reaching out to Harry. He needed strength, he needed resolve. He was silent because he didn't know how to respond.

Harry sighed. "You said you'd be whatever I wanted you to be, and today, I needed you to stay here. I needed to know that I could go out there and do what I needed to do and you would be out of danger." Tongue running across Draco's shoulder, Harry paused. "I know you don't understand why I need to keep distance between us..."

Draco interrupted. "I do," he croaked--his voice felt hoarse, even though he'd hardly been using it. "I mean, I do get it."

"Do you?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised. "Do you know that if I were to give in to you, I don't think I'd be able to fight Voldemort?"

Draco waited for as long as he could before admitting, "I wasn't asleep that day on the couch."

He heard Harry's sharp intake of breath, as he held his own, waiting. Harry sat up in bed, but continued to be silent. Draco turned to look up at Harry.

"Why did you pretend?" Harry asked calmly.

Draco blew out a puff of air. "I wanted time to think, I suppose."

"And?" Harry pressed. He seemed more alert than he had moments ago.

Draco averted his eyes; even in the dark, he didn't want to look at Harry as he said, "I'll wait for you. I'll be here. Your friend, your confidant, whatever you want. I'm here. Earlier, when you left... you said I disobeyed you. If you want," Draco stopped. His pride made it difficult for him to finish his speech. It was one thing to be veela, to be bound. It was another to submit to a human being--mind, body and soul--as an object.

Draco could hear Harry's ragged breathing and he knew the other boy was in misery waiting. He could cause Harry no more pain. "I'm yours," he said finally, simply. "I won't disobey you again. If I am to stay here, locked up, that's fine. I will be your friend and not your lover and sleep in your bed and let you fondle me when the fancy strikes you, and I will not complain. The only thing that matters to me is that when this is over, you are mine and I am yours and you will never again make demands of me."

At the end of Draco's speech, Harry rested his head on Draco's chest and caressed his firm stomach. Draco inhaled sharply. Harry's fingers traced circles on Draco's skin.

"That's not what I want, Draco," Harry whispered against his skin. "I don't want a slave. I should have never said that word... you don't need to obey me. I just want you to understand me."

Draco gave up the battle he was waging in his heart and turned onto his side, dislocating Harry's maddening fingers from his skin. He sighed heavily before asking, "What am I supposed to understand?"

Harry made a sound of discontent. "Well, I didn't mean what I said and I don't want a slave. I just want a friend. I want you but I can't have you because it risks too much, and sometimes I know I cross that line, and that's when I need you to be stronger than I am. I need you to stop me. I need a reminder of what I'm doing."

Draco growled in disbelief, feeling his anger and resentment increasing as he spoke. "And me? Where in this plan of yours do I fit in? My feelings, my needs? I said I'd be whatever you want me to be but you can't sit here and ask me to pretend that it's what I want as well. I think you're wrong, Harry. If you want to push me away, that's your problem. But if you come for me, I'm not going to push you away and _remind you of what you're doing_," Draco stopped, realizing that his voice was rising. He didn't want to start a screaming contest with Ron and Hermione only a few doors away, so he lowered his tone. "That's bullshit, Harry."

"Draco, I didn't mean to pick a fight with you." Harry sighed and ran his hands through his unruly hair. "Maybe now's just not the right time to have this conversation."

"Really?" Draco asked scornfully, his voice low and lethal. His anger was increasing the more they spoke. He thought he was giving Harry what he wanted and he had hoped that the dark-haired boy would realize how hard it was to make those concessions. Harry couldn't just accept what Draco offered; he had to demand more. "You pull that stunt. You go Merlin only knows where. You come back in the dead of the night telling me that I should understand you. And I'm not supposed to argue? I'm not supposed to respond unless it's to affirm your misconceptions about doing the right thing? I'm starting to think maybe you were under the impression that Draco Malfoy had died the moment the night I went to Mrs. Figg's. He's not dead, Harry."

The conversation had traveled into unknown waters and Harry was drowning. He had meant his speech to be apologetic, not argumentative. He hadn't been under the impression that Draco had died. He knew who he was dealing with, he just didn't _think_.

"I didn't think," he said, after a pregnant pause that had Draco seething beside him.

"Yeah, well, tell me something I didn't already know," Draco said coldly.

Harry inhaled sharply and reached out for Draco. "Let me try again."

Draco was silent, which Harry understood as affirmation.

"I've not been fair to you. I don't give you a choice in this and I should. In fact, I wish I could. I can't think of you as someone who takes orders from me, that's why... oh, fuck it all." He smirked and kissed Draco. In the dark, he used his hands and the sound of Draco's breath to find his lips. "I love you," Harry whispered against Draco's soft lips. He didn't care that Draco tasted like sleep and salt. He didn't care that he'd quite possibly had a few too many drinks earlier in a Muggle bar. He just wanted a little bit of reassurance that Draco was okay. He had done more damage than he had ever intended... no, he wasn't going to think. For one night, he wasn't going to think.

Draco broke away from him and lay beside him panting. "You'll break my heart," he said breathlessly.

"No, no," Harry said softly, pulling Draco back to him. "I'm done hurting you. From now on, I promise only to hurt myself." He laughed but it was sorrowful and Draco couldn't stand to hear it.

He wrapped his arms around Harry and repressed his own desire. "Go to sleep," he said. Harry made one more attempt to kiss Draco, but it was unsuccessful and Draco managed to subdue him. Once he had him pinned to the bed, he said, "Don't make promises you can't keep. Figure out what you want and if this is what you want, tell me, but you have to want it all, Harry. You and I are no good with boundaries, we never have been."

Harry sighed finally and closed his eyes. "I want to kill Voldemort."

"So, kill him," Draco answered and turned away from Harry. He was painfully aroused and he'd never before turned Harry away and he wasn't exactly sure why he'd done. He supposed it was his frustration with the situation. He had gotten a taste of blood and he'd experienced one of the most wonderful highs of his life, only to have it dashed by Harry.

He stopped himself from feeling any more resentment or anger towards Harry. It would not do. Instead, he collected himself and left the bed. As he shut the door, he knew things would be better. He was not shutting it forever, only for a week or two. And for once, it was right.

He went downstairs and began to make breakfast. He had at least an hour before anyone else would be awake.

When Hermione came down, an hour and a half later, she inhaled the smell of strawberries, waffles, maple syrup and smoked ham. She didn't need to ask Draco any questions as she joined him at the table. He would never hate Harry, but he felt, in looking at her and the smug way in which she always felt obligated to interfere, he could never see her as part of their family. He would never love her.

Just as she was finishing her breakfast, and preparing to leave for work, Ron arrived. He took in the mountains of food with more sympathy than Hermione had. Instead of helping himself to a plate, he sat beside Draco.

"How is he?" he asked.

Draco sighed. "He's Harry, isn't he? He's never made a bit of sense in his life," Draco said as he stabbed his eggs rather harshly.

Ron laughed. "I take it he tried to make it up to you and said something nasty?"

"He said--" Draco stopped and massaged his jaw, thinking of how best to explain. He knew the conversation he and Harry had shared was meant to be private but he was frustrated and Ron had always helped him before. "He said, 'I need you to remind me of what I'm doing,' you know, when he gets out of line." He tried to ignore Hermione who was openly staring at him across the table. She would be late for work if she didn't leave soon. "I told him that I'd be his slave if he wanted but I wasn't going to play his little game with him. He had to decide what he wanted."

"And?" Ron asked, as he pulled Draco's full plate towards him.

Draco ignored him; instead, he addressed Hermione. "Won't you be late, Granger?"

She jumped, looked at the clock and then looked back at Draco. She seemed very reluctant to go, but he was not about to continue to talk in front of her. She grabbed her red cap and left.

"So?" Ron asked, the moment she was gone.

"He kissed me... I think, well, he was definitely interested."

Ron grinned and clapped him on the back. "That's great, mate!"

"Is it?" Draco asked. "He smelled awful... he'd gone and got pissed yesterday. And I don't know... I've waited this long, I didn't want... Does it sound really girly if I say I want it to be special?"

"Yeah, it does," Ron said, mock-serious.

Draco sighed. "So I stopped him and told him to figure out what he wants. He said he wants to kill Voldemort, so I told him to kill him and that was that."

"So what now?" Ron asked thoughtfully.

"I don't know. If he wants to wait until Voldemort's gone, then I'm not going to argue with him anymore. I just want it over already. We need to find that damn Horcrux!" Draco exclaimed in frustration.

"Well, you know what Hermione said, it's very hard for her to explore."

"I think maybe it's time one of us went with her," Draco declared. "When Harry wakes up we can ask him for the Invisibility Cloak, but one of us ought to go and check out the place. Hermione can tell us where to look."

Ron swallowed thickly. "And which one of us do you suggest?"

"Well, you," Draco replied. "It makes more sense for you to go, and I really don't want to piss Harry off any more at the moment."

"You don't think he'll want to go himself?" Ron asked.

Draco shook his head. "He'll want to, but he knows he can't. It risks way too much."

Ron agreed and they fell into silence. Ron finished off his plate and took it to the sink. When he came back, he looked bothered by something.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

"I was just thinking... yesterday, did Harry say anything about the battle to you?"

Draco shook his head. "No, we didn't talk about it."

"Oh," said Ron, pensively.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why? What happened?"

"Well..." Ron stopped and scratched his head; he looked torn. "I don't know what you saw, but Harry saved a lot of lives yesterday. He also... I don't know who it was, I just heard the spell Harry used."

Comprehension dawned on Draco and it floored him. His mouth went dry as he stared at Ron. "What spell?" he asked finally.

Ron turned away from him. "Sectumsempra."

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He sipped at his cold coffee and stared ahead of him. "Wow."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. He was watching Draco carefully.

Draco ran his hands down his face and sighed. "He felt so powerful last night. I didn't realize, but it was the bond. I bet the body was mangled."

Ron cringed. "I didn't look."

"He was dangerous... I think, maybe I was lucky--he could have really hurt me, but he's... he's got to be able to control that. It won't be the only time he kills," Draco informed Ron forlornly.

They sat in their own thoughts for a while, and before long, Harry joined them in the dining room. The food had been kept warm by magic, and he helped himself silently. He sat beside Draco at the table.

He covered Draco's hand with his own and smiled at him. "Good morning."

Draco smiled back. "We were just talking about sending Ron to the Cineplex to search for the Horcrux."

The smile fell from Harry's lips and his hand fell away. "What?"

"We need to find the last Horcrux," Draco answered quickly. "Then you can kill Voldemort," he added with a wink.

Harry scowled. "But why send Ron? I can--"

"No," Draco interjected. "You have to be at Headquarters to find out what happened after the battle yesterday. It has to be Ron."

Harry changed tactics. "It doesn't have to be today--"

Draco interrupted once more. "It has to be today. It's November, we'll need time to find Voldemort and destroy him and the snake."

Harry relented. Draco noticed that he never questioned why Draco hadn't volunteered himself. Instead, he asked, "And what will you be doing today?"

Draco's smile faltered. "I've got some reading to catch up on. Don't you trust me?"

Harry was watching him closely. "You're going to read while Ron looks for a Horcrux?"

Draco nodded slowly. He knew Harry didn't believe him, but he didn't know how to convince him and he was tired of always having to make the added effort.

Harry shrugged. "Fine, fine. Ron, do you want my Cloak?"

Ron nodded and Harry Accio'd it for him. "We should head out. Make sure you send Hermione a Patronus when you get there," Harry said to Ron, before turning to Draco. "_I'll_ be back in an hour, tops, and you'd better be here when I get back."

Draco smiled sweetly at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. "As if I have anywhere I'd rather be."

Ron left the room, and Harry made to follow but caught sight of Draco and stopped. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I still think we have some things we need to discuss. When I get back..."

Draco averted his eyes. He didn't understand why this line of conversation always made him feel so uncomfortable. "I don't know what we could possibly add to what was said, Harry. I said I'm here no matter what, so I'm here, but I think it's time I set my own boundaries. We can't be in this frustrating limbo between lovers and acquaintances. If emotional distance is the only way to get through this, than that's what we'll do... but talking about it any more won't help."

Harry nodded and turned away from Draco. His voice was quiet when he said, "If we were different--"

Draco interrupted. "We're not."

"_If_ we were different, I'd hope I'd be better to you. I'd hope I'd treat you better... I am truly sorry, Draco."

Draco watched him leave and felt the emotions in his chest constrict his lungs. Harry had a way of stopping him in his tracks and reminding him why the boy was worth the trouble. The door shut and Draco sighed. He had a task to do.

If distance was what was needed, then some arrangements needed to be made. He went upstairs and stood for a moment, in the middle of their shared bedroom, and thought. He bit his lip as he stared at their shared bed. Suddenly inspired, he raised his wand and focused on the result he wanted. He knew the veela magic would strengthen his magic, he only hoped it had worked to improve his transfiguration spells.

Slowly, the bed divided into two and Draco let out a whoop of excitement at being able to perform the spell. The excitement left him in a rush when he saw the two single beds that stood where their large bed had been. Draco moved the beds apart and set a table between them. He transfigured the sheets and made the beds. He chose one and sat down.

He wasn't sure why he was doing it. In a way, he wanted Harry to feel some of the torture that he had been feeling for the past few weeks. Harry had explicitly asked that Draco continue to share his bed. Yet, sharing a bed no longer felt appropriate. He had decided they would wait and once Voldemort was dead, it would be special; it would be like a new bond. He would wait for that even if it meant that they slept in separate beds to remove temptation.

He went downstairs and pulled out _The Darkest of Dark Potions_. He chuckled a bit as he turned to the last page he had been reading.

_... If a soul has been reanimated, a sip of the Draught of the Living Death will destroy the corpse. If the soul is resistant, drenching the body in the Draught will also have the desired effect._

Draco settled more comfortably into the cushions and skimmed through the ingredients on how to make a poison that stops the heart with just a whiff.

An hour passed, and Harry did not return. Draco set aside his book and flipped on the tell-a-vision. The news was on, so he left it.

"_The disappearances around Europe continue today as a schoolteacher in Essex and a family in North London were reported missing. More questions have been raised about possible government involvement. Newly elected Prime Minister Tony Blair held a press conference today to assure the people that the government is doing everything it can to find the disappeared and those responsible. The current list of disappearances is well over 1,000 individuals. Many have been missing for more than six months, and many families of the disappeared have given up all hope of their loved ones returning. Yet, the epidemic is not limited to England. Throughout Europe, over 10,000 individuals have been reported missing. _

_In other news, an attack two weeks ago in Berlin that killed 500 people in a massive explosion has left officials baffled. So far, no evidence or suspects have been found._" The reporter stopped, overcome with emotions, and Draco felt his stomach drop as the kind, grey-haired reporter dabbed at her eyes.

"_With all this tragedy, one wonders who is responsible or how the tragedy can be stopped. Yet, we must focus one what is most important. This reporter recommends that you stay at home. If you must leave the house, do not go out alone. Keep in daily contact with friends and family. If you are unable to contact someone, report it immediately. The sooner the proper officials are notified, the sooner they will be able to send out a search party. In this time of uncertainty, it's important to leave nothing to chance._"

Draco sighed and turned the picture off. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be Muggle, to not know the cause of the attacks or how to defend himself. He couldn't help wondering if there was some way in which the Muggles could be warned. They deserved to know what was killing them, even if they couldn't possibly understand it. In the end, he thought it best not to dwell on the impossible, and instead stood to make lunch.

Sometimes, it seemed like he was only alive to eat and sleep. It was primitive and boring. Going to Hogwarts to defend the school had been a welcome change. He wished he could do more.

He had a light lunch. When it was over, he felt empty and tired, so he turned the tell-a-vision back on, only this time he went right past the news cast and settled on a nice black and white picture about the Wild West.

He thought no more of poor tortured Muggles. Instead, he thought of cowboys in things called chaps. They were fine looking chaps, at that.

The day grew and grew, and as the time went, Draco became increasingly worried. No amount of men riding horses could stop the panic that started to rise in his heart as he thought about disappearances and the Dark Lord. After all, it wasn't just Muggles that were disappearing. The _Daily Prophet_ kept a weekly list of those that had disappeared in the magical world.

Draco left the room and paced the front hall, willing Harry to come home. He couldn't leave the house. He wasn't only afraid that Harry would be angry, but that something _had_ happened and he would be putting himself at risk by going to Headquarters.

Harry didn't show, so Draco stopped pacing. He sat back on the couch and fiddled with the Re-moat for a while, before turning off the tell-a-vision and stretching out on the couch.

He tried to fight the boredom, but within an hour, it lulled him into an uneasy sleep. He awoke, in the darkness, to a cold touch on his forehead. He opened his eyes and screamed. He shot out of the couch and had his wand out in an instant. "How did you get in?" he asked coldly.

The ghost raised its arms in defense. "I am here to deliver a message, Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger was injured this afternoon and brought to Hogwarts. Mr. Potter was called and has been in the infirmary with her. He only asked that I let you know."

"Am I allowed to go?" Draco asked, feeling foolish for feeling as though he needed permission.

The Gryffindor ghost raised an eyebrow. "He didn't say. He only asked that I tell you that he found his missing torch."

Draco nodded. He watched as the ghost drifted through the doors and he collapsed back on to the couch. The Horcruxes were all accounted for and now they only needed to destroy them. He let his eyes close once more, and his last thoughts before sleeping were that he'd forgotten to ask if Granger was all right.

Harry woke him hours later and guided him up to their room. Drowsy, Draco vaguely remembered having transfigured their bed, but he was silent as they made their way into their room. Harry looked around the room but said nothing. He deposited Draco onto one of the beds and made his way into the bathroom. Draco crawled under the sheets and waited for Harry to come back. He was properly awake when the dark-haired boy returned.

Harry crept out of the bathroom quietly but stopped when he spotted Draco and sighed. "You going to tell me what this arrangement is about?"

"I'm removing temptation," Draco responded impatiently. "How's Granger?"

"She's fine," Harry said tensely. "Or she will be... It's going to take time. Voldemort was guarding the Horcrux more closely than I think we could have ever suspected. Ron and Hermione were lucky to be alive. Still, I rather think Hermione's glad she doesn't have to go back to work again."

"And the Horcrux?"

"It's downstairs. Tomorrow we'll need to start working on destroying them. I don't want to take the chance that he'll create more."

Draco nodded dumbly. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

Harry sat heavily on the opposite bed. "I honestly don't know. I have no idea what I would've done if Hermione had died, or if we'd been wrong about the Cineplex."

Draco pulled himself up in bed and rested his head on his knees. "We'll have to destroy it," he said finally.

"What?" asked Harry, surprised. "Of course we'll destroy the Horcrux."

The blond shook his head. "Not the Horcrux. The Cineplex--all of them. He needs the money. He doesn't have very many rich followers. My father always helped fund the cause, but now he's gone. Wars are expensive."

Harry was thoughtful for a moment. "How do you suggest we destroy a movie theatre?"

Draco shrugged. "How do you destroy anything? We'll just burn it to the ground. If anything, it might help bring him out once we destroy the Horcruxes."

Harry said nothing. Draco slid back under his covers and closed his eyes. He was nearly asleep but he heard Harry's exaggerated sighing, so he opened his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Harry sighed again and shifted in his bed. "I just feel guilty. Hermione could have died."

Draco mentally rolled his eyes. "Your hero complex is annoying." With that, he covered his head with his pillow and tuned out Harry's voice. Harry was crazy for feeling guilty about not having been there. He was needed for something greater, and they both were well aware of it.

Half an hour passed, and Draco was still awake. He turned onto his back and sighed. He could feel Harry's eyes on him.

"Ron told me what you did," he admitted.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, his voice tense.

"You killed a Death Eater." Draco could hear Harry shifting on his bed. Draco sat up, waiting for a response.

"That's what I'm supposed to do, isn't it? Kill," Harry responded dejectedly.

Draco heart lurched at the hopelessness in Harry's voice. He couldn't _not_ respond. "Maybe. But it doesn't make you like them, you know. You kill one of them and it saves hundreds of lives."

Harry inhaled sharply and let out the air slowly before answering. "I don't know who it was. He had his wand pointed at Remus and I just...acted. When I realized what I had to do, I felt so powerful. I could have killed him without the spell. Was that...?" Harry stopped, unable to complete his sentence.

"Yes," Draco said, knowing the question without having to hear it. "It was veela magic. It's to protect the veela. The more powerful your magic is, the less likely you are to die. The less likely it is that I'd die, too."

"You've told me that before," Harry said quietly. "I knew it, but feeling it... I felt like I _could_ defeat Voldemort. I don't know."

Draco smiled. "So, now that you know, do you think we made the right decision?"

Harry sighed heavily. "I don't know. It does make it harder to deny, doesn't it?"

Draco scooted down and pulled the blankets around himself, feeling a little more confident about the decisions he'd made. Even if Harry wasn't ready to admit it, he was absolutely sure the bond was the right thing to do.

--

A/N: I'm working on ch. 20, so I'm going to keep this short. Thank you to everyone that commented. I know everyone's angry with Harry and I don't know what I can do to make him more sympathetic. There's 3-4 chapters left and for the moment, expect about 2 weeks in between post.

The one thing that I want to talk about is _The Admirable William Black_. The premise is that the war's over and Draco leaves the magical world. He's discovered in Muggle London and becomes a Hollywood movie star. Five years after leaving, he decides to go back to fight for his family's property. Of course, one of the first people he runs into is Harry Potter. Harry has spent the post-war years working to restore the government in the Wizarding World and he wants Draco's help, but Draco's not interested in restoring the institutions that forced him to leave years ago.

So, tell me what you think!


	20. The Compromise

A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling

**Chapter Twenty**

The Compromise

--

Two weeks later, once Hermione was stable enough that they were sure she'd survive, the three men of 7 Cross Court sat around the dining room table and stared at the three Horcruxes at the center.

Draco looked at Harry. "Are you sure you know how to do this? I mean... are you sure you won't end up like Dumbledore?"

An indefinable emotion flickered across Harry's face and he scowled. "I know what I'm doing," he said with an air of confidence that bore no room for disagreement.

Draco nodded and tried to swallow some of the bile in his throat as Harry raised his wand to the cup--the first to be destroyed. He and Ron watched in awe and terrible fright as Harry lifted the cup into midair and began a strange dance with it. It bounced up and down as it twirled in a clearly defined circle. Suddenly, it stopped bouncing and dropped back onto the table and started to spin. It spun around and around until a blue jet of light erupted from the end of Harry's wand and stopped its motion.

They waited. An ear-piercing whistle and fine white smoke came from the metal and then, before their eyes, the cup shattered and a fragment of the Dark Lord was floating above the table.

Harry collapsed from the exertion and Draco raised his wand. "_Interficere Animus._" Red light shot from his wand and he closed his eyes and let the rush of magic run through his body. The high-pitched ringing sounded from the remnants of the cup again as the piece of Voldemort's soul was destroyed. He expected the feelings afterwards to be much like killing Bellatrix, and in a sense, they were... only weaker. He had killed only a fraction of a soul and he received only a fraction of the consequences. On the other hand, Harry had to undo one of the darkest of all magical spells. The fact that he was still breathing was a miracle onto itself.

The moment they were sure it was gone, Draco was at Harry's side, helping him up. Once Harry was safely seated, Draco brushed back his sweaty hair and kissed his forehead. "Are you okay?" he asked, deeply concerned.

Harry nodded weakly. "I don't think I can do that again."

Draco nodded, wiping tears from under Harry's eyes. "No, no more today. Let's take you upstairs." He nodded to Ron, who stood to help him, and together they got Harry upstairs. Draco helped him under the sheets and sat beside him.

"You'll recover from this, right Harry?" He leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Because what you did was amazing. It was the most incredible bit of magic I've ever seen, but it wouldn't be worth it if you died."

Harry smiled at him weakly. "I'm not going anywhere." Draco smiled back and hoped that he was right.

Once Harry was asleep, Draco went downstairs to help Ron clean up. The table was charred where the Horcrux had been destroyed and Draco had expected to see the pieces of metal scattered on the floor. Instead, the cup was intact and Ron was sitting at the table staring at it.

"It's still there," Draco said, amazed and not, because the cup was older than Hogwarts itself, and an object that old ought to withstand a little curse. That said, he was a little frightened of it.

Ron nodded dumbly. "It was sitting there when I came downstairs. Do you think... maybe... it didn't work?"

Draco shook his head vehemently. The thought had never crossed his mind. "It had to. It just _had_ to."

Ron nodded. "But can you check?"

With multiple flicks of his wand, Draco examined the cup for any magical signatures, and as far as he could tell, Voldemort was gone. It had lost all magical properties. He checked the locket, just to make sure the Horcrux was detectable, and sure enough, the locket glowed a brilliant red.

"Dumbledore wore the ring, remember?" Draco said, trying to reassure both Ron and himself that the spells had worked. "He must have used the same magic."

Ron conceded and they levitated the other two Horcruxes back into the safe. Unsure of what to do with the cup, they left it on the table.

"Are you terribly fond of the dining table?" Ron asked, as he attempted to clear some of the black scorch marks to no avail.

Draco shrugged. "I can afford another."

They went into the family room and sat in a reverie of wonder. Draco was emotionally exhausted. The spell he'd used hadn't taken as much of a toll on him as what Harry had gone through, yet the experience had taken away most of his strength. He could do little more than sit for what seemed like hours staring at the blank picture screen.

When the sun set, Draco trudged upstairs and found Harry lying in bed, just as they'd left him. Draco stood in the door for a while, watching. He had finally convinced himself to pick up the cup from the dining table, and he set it on the table beside Harry's bed.

He went about his nightly routine. He changed into his pajamas and brushed his teeth. When he walked back into the bedroom, he saw his neat, cold bed and looked at Harry, sleeping so uneasily, and went over to him. He was tossing and turning and his face was distorted with pain. It was rather simple for Draco to just pull the blankets it back and crawl in beside him. He'd never made any promises to stay away. He'd only tried to keep away to prevent disappointment.

Harry adjusted against him and wrapped an arm around his waist. He was no longer restless, his sleep turned peaceful and Draco was able to sleep better knowing Harry was no longer in pain or discomfort.

---

They had hoped to destroy another Horcrux the next day. At the most, Draco was willing to give Harry a couple of days to recover. He never expected that Harry would lie in bed for a week, unable to do even a simple Lumos spell for three days. Their saving grace was that Harry had always been a fighter and fought hard over that week.

Draco tried repeatedly during that time to get Harry to talk about the spellwork he had used to separate the soul, but he refused to talk about it. He was absolutely determined to destroy the Horcruxes himself, even if he spent the next month and a half unconscious--a fate they all knew they could not afford.

Draco had asked if the _Book of Truth_ had a solution to Harry's weakness many times, but Harry would never answer him. It was all so frustrating.

When Harry was physically strong enough to venture downstairs, the three boys once again sat around the table staring at a Horcrux--this time, the necklace.

Harry had Draco's hand in his this time as his right hand rose to perform the magic. It was quicker this time, and Harry managed to stay seated as Draco performed _Interficere Animus_. When it was over, Harry was helped over to the couch, where he slept for the rest of the day.

Draco didn't hesitate to pick up the locket. Ron and Draco sat at the table while Draco tinkered with it.

"It seemed better this time, didn't it?" Ron asked quietly.

Draco shrugged. "We won't know until tomorrow."

Draco, not nearly strong enough, levitated Harry's body upstairs and they slept in one of the small single beds wrapped in each other. In the morning, Harry was able to go downstairs and he was not physically weak. He was, however, once again unable to perform magic.

During breakfast, Draco snapped. "I know you don't want to talk about what's going on, but I need to know... will any of this be permanent?"

Harry sighed, his eyes downcast and a slight tremor to his hand as he put down his fork. "I don't know," he admitted.

Draco stared at him. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"It's not that easy. The book tells me how to create magic, it doesn't... I've reversed the spell to make a Horcrux. I've omitted one or two of the steps in order to... to save my soul... I don't know what the effects will be, but I explained what I was doing to Snape and he... Well, he had me modify his memory of the conversation, but he told me it was a sound plan," Harry explained, his eyes averted from the two others at the table. "I didn't want to tell anyone. There was no reason for anyone else to be worried."

Draco clutched the end of the table to stop himself from leaping over the table and strangling his lover. "And if you'd died?"

Harry let out a deep sigh. "I don't think it could have killed me. I'll be okay in a few days... from what I understand, it builds immunity. If I've done it right, I think it'll make my magic more resilient."

"But how can you know that?" Draco asked exasperatedly. "What if this fails?"

Harry met his eyes. "I wasn't sure before, but you made me stronger. I believe I can do this now."

Draco didn't really understand. Harry had held his hand throughout, but he hadn't felt anything. "_I_ made you stronger?" Draco asked.

Ron, who had been silent so far, piped up. "Well, I'm off to see Hermione."

Harry dragged his eyes away from Draco and stood. "I'll go with you."

"No," Ron said quickly. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to leave the house right now, Harry."

Draco agreed. "She's at St. Mungo's, Harry--it's a public place... you can't know who'll be there."

"I can use my Invisibility Cloak," Harry tried.

"No."

"But no one would know."

"No."

"I... no, you could perform a glamour on me."

"_No._"

"It's Hermione. She's my friend. I can't _not_ visit her."

Draco sighed. "She knows what's going on, Harry. She'll only be more worried if you did go and see her. Just face it. You're stuck here for the time being."

Finally, Harry conceded. "Just don't tell her, okay? I really don't want her to be worried at the moment."

Ron agreed and left the room. Once he was gone from the house, Draco met Harry head-on. "Tell me exactly what you did to that Horcrux."

Harry looked him straight in the eye. "No."

Draco sighed. "You could've died... we need to know what you're doing so that we can help. You can't shut me out this time, Harry." Yes, Draco did realize that he sounded like he was begging. He had come to accept the fact that he would have to do this from time to time with Harry; he had accepted it and was not ashamed.

Harry got shakily to his feet and walked over to Draco. He sat on the blond's lap and kissed him passionately... or as passionately as the infirmed boy was able to manage. "Be satisfied knowing that I love you and that I know what I'm doing."

Draco laughed and kissed him again. "Fair enough, I suppose." He did realize that he had totally been played but that was part of living with Harry, as well.

The rest of that day and the next, Harry sat on the couch in the sitting room watching the 24-hour Muggle news. Draco started to wish they'd never brought the television into the house. He caught Harry trying his wand a hundred times over those two days. Then, slowly, magic returned to him. On the third day, he felt strong enough to sit at the table for a third time in front of a Horcrux.

Draco couldn't stop himself from shaking. He couldn't stop his wand hand from shaking, or his knees from bouncing. Ron was just as nervous. Draco was sure he was seconds from biting a chunk out of his bottom lip. Harry, on the other hand, was the picture of calmness. He put a hand on Draco's knee and took his hand in his. He reached over and kissed the veela's lips softly. He pulled away and closed his eyes a second before raising his wand.

Draco was too jittery to perform _Interficere Animus_, so Ron did it for him. He closed his eyes and waited, still clutching Harry's hand tightly. When he finally opened them, Harry's vivid green eyes were staring deep into his.

"You're okay," Draco stated in awe.

Harry nodded. "The torch is gone and I'm okay." His eyes were glazed as he leaned in to say, "It's you. It's all you. I love you and I can do this."

Ron cleared his throat and ended their moment.

Draco tilted his head back and tried to will away his tears. He had never so clearly felt so much love for another human being. He looked across the table and met Harry's eyes again and smiled. Harry smiled back shyly before either of them tuned into the conversation Ron was having.

"... right, Harry?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Of course, Ron."

"So when do you think we should start?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and said, lamely, "Start what?"

Ron sighed. "Hunting You-Know-Who. I said we needed to start looking for leads."

Harry nodded apologetically. "Right. Yes. Well, I think destroy the Cineplexes first. There's five, so I think at some point, he'll show up."

"Why destroy the Cineplexes?" Ron asked, perplexed.

Draco spoke up first. "Even wizards need money, you know that, Ron." He grinned and continued, "Voldemort couldn't really walk into Gringotts and open an account, but Tom Riddle can walk into any Muggle bank and do business. That we know of, none of his followers are particularly wealthy, so the Cineplexes must be his main source of income. His Horcruxes are gone; if we take his money, he'll be even weaker when we finally have to meet him."

"Or he'll be really, really furious. Do we really want to make him angrier?" Ron asked, clearly concerned about the implications. Draco considered the consequences but shrugged. Harry looked completely nonplussed.

"Furious is kind of default for Voldemort," Harry commented dryly. "I don't think we can hope for sweet and friendly."

Ron sighed. "I know that. What I'm trying to say is that Voldemort will retaliate... he will either hunt and kill someone important to us, or increase the attacks. We should look for leads and try to take him unaware."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's the end of November, we only have a month. This has to happen now. It has to happen right now. It won't matter if we piss him off because he won't have time to react."

Draco agreed readily. "I really think it's important to destroy these Cineplexes. Just think of how the Death Eaters could use them after Voldemort's gone."

Ron still looked unconvinced, even as he conceded. "All right, when do you plan on doing this?"

Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "First we need to decide _how _we're doing this."

"Why can't we just blow it up?" Draco asked.

"What if there are people inside?" Harry countered, shaking his head.

"I didn't mean to do it in the middle of the day. At night, obviously. Anyway, Muggles have fire detection equipment--I saw it on the telly... they'd get out."

Harry emitted a bark-like laugh. "Someone could also put out the fire. We need something quick and unstoppable."

"Muggles have these bombs... they drop them on one another during periods of war," Draco said.

Harry sat back in his chair and sighed. "Draco, that's not practical. Where would we get bombs from?"

"The Ministry, of course." Frankly, Draco thought Harry was making this whole situation much more difficult than it needed to be. Blowing the place up seemed, to him, the only option.

Harry looked to Ron for hope, but Ron looked uninterested in their conversation.

"If we started a magical fire, would they be able to stop it?" Harry asked Draco.

"I thought you said..."

"Never mind what I said," Harry replied impatiently. "Could they stop it?"

"Well, there are spells that would be unstoppable... or at least would act fast enough that they wouldn't have the time to stop it."

Harry nodded. "We'll need to find a spell like that. And we need to find out if there is a Headquarters that will need to be destroyed as well. But for right now, I'd like to speak to Ron alone. All right?"

Draco nodded and left.

---

When Draco was gone, Harry turned to Ron. "Hey mate, what's up?"

Ron shrugged. "You're right. We have a month... I hadn't..."

"You hadn't thought about it?" Harry finished for him. "I know, and it is what it is."

"I always thought," Ron's voice was hollow as he continued, "that the three of us would do this together. Instead, Hermione's--"

"I know," Harry said, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder. "We'll do this for Hermione." As Harry squeezed Ron's shoulder, he thought of Hermione. He thought of what she would do in his place. _She_ would never have learned the spells to create Horcruxes and she wouldn't like the thoughts running through his head. She wouldn't like hearing that he wanted to kill Voldemort just to feel the thrill of it or that he wanted to go upstairs and make love to Draco until they were both too weak to care about the world. Then, there was that nagging thought that maybe they could just take the book back and disappear. The prophecy was not a binding contract; Dumbledore had told him that.

"Everything will work out," he told Ron and hoped he sounded convincing.

He watched Ron walk out of the kitchen dejectedly and wished there was more he could say or do to be reassuring. He just didn't know how to do it when he himself felt no reassurance.

Six months ago, all he wanted was to kill Voldemort. Now, there was so much more that he wanted. At the top of that list... he closed his eyes and remembered how his skin tingled when Draco touched him, how his heart fluttered when he saw a smile on those pale pink lips. He wanted to always feel the soaring feeling in his chest that he had felt the moment he had realized that being bound to a veela had strengthened his magic enough to destroy the Horcrux, and that the closer he was to Draco, the more powerful he was. Without Draco, he would never have been able to destroy Voldemort.

After composing himself (and clearing the table), he made his way upstairs. He stood in the doorway unnoticed by Draco and watched the blond as he lounged on his bed, thumbing through one of his Muggle novels. His left foot idly rubbed against the right. Though he couldn't see his face, he imagined the look of concentration--furrowed eyebrows, lip caught between his teeth.

Unable to stay quiet any longer, Harry let out a deep sigh and Draco turned his attention to him. Harry took a seat on the bed beside Draco and toed off his shoes before lying down and wrapping his arms around Draco.

"I love you," he whispered in the veela's ear. "I'm so sorry...for everything, but mostly, for having wasted so much time hating you."

Draco gave him a look of concern. "Did something happen?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing, I just finally came to my senses. I've been so wrong. So wrong about you, so wrong about everything." He kissed the side of Draco's neck and slowly began to move his right hand down the blond's back.

"Stop, Harry," Draco said clearly, removing Harry's hands from his body.

Harry didn't understand and had no idea how to respond. "Is something wrong?"

Draco smiled sadly at him and placed a chaste kiss on his nose. "Nothing's wrong. I couldn't be happier... but, I thought about it, and well, if we waited..." he shrugged and blushed sheepishly. "How completely emasculated would you think me if I told you that I think it'll be a bit... more special if... we waited?"

Harry gave him a breathtaking smile. "I'd think you were an incredibly cheesy romantic. And then I'd tell you that I absolutely agree."

In the end, Draco moved into Harry's arms again and they kissed lazily for a while before Draco thought of something to add.

"This is what we should be fighting for. I don't think you can win if you're fighting for revenge." Draco swallowed thickly. "I've learned a lot since... since June. Dumbledore thought love was the answer... ours, not anyone else's."

Harry was silent as he digested this. His heart was truly touched by Draco's expression of love, but in the end the humour of it all won out. He pressed his face into Draco's shoulder and giggled.

"Are you giggling, you great oaf?" Draco asked, smacking Harry lightly. "I was being serious!"

Harry sobered long enough to say, "I know and I agree with you, but you have to see how ridiculous this all is. Draco Malfoy in my bed telling me that love is the answer. If I had a Time-Turner and went back to fourth year to tell you that this would be your life in three years, what would you have said?"

Draco shrugged. "I would have thought you were apeshit insane. But this is serious, Harry. You won't win with anger. You won't win by pushing us away, either. We should have known what was going on with the Horcruxes," Draco admonished lightly.

Harry nodded, not happy to admit he was wrong, but knowing he was, nonetheless. "It's difficult to know that the three of you are in danger because of me. My first instinct will always be to protect you, even if it means that I don't always share everything. It might not be what you want, but it's not easy for me to change."

Draco nodded. "Tell me again that you love me. Say it until I believe it, please."

Harry had to stop himself from defending himself, but he looked into Draco's soft grey eyes and complied.

---

The first Cineplex was easy to destroy. Security was lax, at best, and simply turning on the fire alarm cleared the building of any living being. Just as Draco had recommended, they set an inextinguishable fire and watched as the building resisted all Muggle methods of assistance. They never saw the slightest hint of magic.

The second and third Cineplexes were as easy as the first. By the end of a single week, they had wiped out more than half of the company. It was when they arrived at the fourth Cineplex that they ran into problems.

Once the building was clear, and the patrol cars around the area were Confounded, Draco attempted the inextinguishable flame. It wouldn't take. They all three attempted it unsuccessfully. Harry tried a conventional fire, but it was easily extinguished. Draco tried various spells that he knew to destroy objects, but the walls were entirely indestructible.

Harry spotted a Death Eater Apparating onto the scene, and the three of them Disapparated home. Once they were there, Draco went immediately to his books to find a way to destroy the Cineplex.

"Why would they only send one?" Ron asked aloud.

Harry began to pace across the sitting room. "I don't know. I think we should be prepared for more of them when we go back."

Ron nodded. "What about the fifth place?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, continuing to pace. "We should go and check it out, but expect more of the same."

At that moment, Draco came rushing in with one of his large tomes.

"Find anything, Hermione?" Ron asked sardonically.

Draco gave him a look of deepest loathing. "Yes, it involves sacrificing one red-haired weasel."

Ron laughed. "Fair enough."

Harry stopped pacing and was waiting intently to hear Draco's plan. "Well?" he pressed.

Draco took a deep breath. "Dark magic... more dark magic, anyway."

Harry closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. "Definitely not Hermione." He took another deep breath and nodded to Draco. "Okay, what spell?"

"Well, it's a variation on Avada Kedavra. When properly performed, the Killing Curse has been known to end even the toughest spells. This variation enhances that particular element."

Harry raised an eyebrow at this idea. "But does it keep the caster's soul intact?"

Draco sighed. "I believe so, yes."

"And you really think this will work?" Harry asked carefully.

Draco shrugged. "It's the best I've got... and since I've performed the Killing Curse before, I don't think I'll have any trouble."

"Draco, I don't want..."

"Harry, this isn't the time. I'll do it, I've done it before. As far as I know, it was successful. We don't have the time it would take for you to learn it."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look that was equal parts skeptical and frightened, but in the end they decided that it was in fact the only option they had. Draco recommended they retire for the night and the three of them trudged upstairs to sleep.

Draco spent longer than normal in the shower that night. The spell used the same words but involved an intricate twist of the wrist as it was performed. He practiced under the water, praying to whatever deity would listen that he wouldn't fuck it up and have the spell rebound on him.

Harry was asleep when he finally crawled into bed. It was near three in the morning and tomorrow could possibly bring another encounter with Voldemort, so he knew sleep was important, but Draco still couldn't understand how anyone could possibly rest with so much riding on the morning.

He did his best to clear his thoughts and soon enough he, too, drifted into an uneasy sleep.

--

A/N: Just a little useless information--the title of this chapter was "Love Will Remind Us Who We Are" (a lyric taken from Jet's song, "Falling Star") for a while, but I thought The Compromise was a bit more fitting for what was going on.

I have a paper to write for tomorrow, so I'm not going to answer any questions... on a related note, my f-ing college graduation is on the 17th and between finals and everything going on, don't expect any updates until a week or more after. But don't let that stop you from sending me gifts...(or offering to write dreaded paper for me!)

Love you all, most especially those who comment!


	21. Beneath My Wings

A/N: Thanks to RF for being the wonderful beta on this.

Chapter Twenty-One

Beneath My Wings

--

When they arrived at the fifth Cineplex, the three boys immediately felt a shift in the air around them. The location _felt_ different than the others. Draco wished they could just perform the spell and Apparate away as quickly as possible, but he had spotted the Muggle guard and he knew there was no way Harry was going to let anyone innocent die at their hands.

As they carefully walked around the parameter of the building, they discovered that the Muggle guard was not alone. What had to be the entire London police department was hiding only one block from the Cineplex and the three wizards were easily able to detect the lights. Their presence surprised Ron and Draco greatly, but Harry, after a momentary shock, explained that the first three fires must have been on the Muggle news. The police would be working to prevent further arson and would be monitoring the Cineplexes.

They quickly decided on the best concealment spells. Draco cast Disillusionment Charms on Harry and Ron. While Harry unlocked a side door and crept silently into the theater, Ron returned the favor. Draco went in after Harry and Ron took one quick look around before following. Once inside, Draco was grabbed around the waist and a hand covered his mouth.

"Shh..." Harry whispered and Draco relaxed for a second. He squinted in the dark to see that hundreds of hooded figures were gathered in the main concession area. The quick relief that had spread through his veins at the sound of Harry's voice dissipated and terror returned. They were three against many.

Draco had the presence of mind to cast a Silencing Charm around them as Ron came into the room and spotted the group of Death Eaters.

"Holy fuck!" he exclaimed. Harry quickly shushed him. Ron swallowed thickly and whispered, "What are we going to do?"

Harry shrugged in the darkness. The only source of light in the theatre was coming from the Death Eaters. It was impossible to know how far they could get before they would be detected.

"We should go back... we can do this some other day." It had to be the most brilliant idea Draco ever heard come from Ron's mouth. Unfortunately, Harry could not be persuaded.

"What difference would it make if we came back tomorrow or the next day? We wouldn't be any more prepared, and Voldemort will have had time to call in more reinforcements!" Harry hissed back. Ron swallowed and said no more.

Absently, Draco noticed that he was perspiring at an alarming rate, and his heart was pounding wildly. Looking out at the sea of Death Eaters that awaited him was nearly enough to upset his stomach, as well.

Harry grabbed his hand and together, they stepped into the room. Ron was close behind; in fact, Draco could feel his hot breath on the back of his ear. The ragged breaths were not at all attractive. Draco realized, belatedly, that before stepping into the room, they should have come up with some sort of plan because it only took about five paces before the Death Eaters became aware of their presence.

"IT'S HARRY POTTER!" A nearby female Death Eater shouted, and soon, the entire crowd had turned towards them.

"We're going to die!" Ron sobbed into Draco's ear. He, himself, had been thinking the same thing, but judging by the look of defiance on Harry's face, he thought it best not to voice his agreement.

Harry walked into the lit area with his wand held high, a natural soldier. Draco also had his wand held high; he only wished he looked half as confident as his partner.

The crowd parted and Harry's hand tightened its hold as they realized that it was Lord Voldemort making his way towards them.

"What do you want to do?" Draco asked Harry under his breath.

Harry kept his eyes on the crowd as he answered. "Everyone seems to be gathered here. When I give the signal, you and Ron should Apparate up to the balcony." Draco looked past the Death Eaters and saw the stairs leading up to the balcony entrances, all of which looked entirely empty. "Barricade the stairs," Harry continued, "and do what you can from there. Use any means necessary. If you see an opportunity to destroy the building, you should take it."

Voldemort was within firing range; Harry cast a Shielding Charm and shouted, "Go!"

Sparing no time, Ron and Draco Apparated to the top floor of the Cineplex and blocked off the stairs with a series of spells. Draco attempted a simple burning charm on the walls, but once again, it was entirely unsuccessful.

He turned to Ron. "Fight off the Death Eaters, use every spell you know. I'm going to work on burning this place down."

Ron nodded, going to the rails overlooking the scene below, and began blasting away at the Death Eaters gathered around Harry and Voldemort. By sheer luck, Ron's first spell set fire to Voldemort's robes.

"KILL THEM!" he shouted to his minions.

Draco dodged spells that were being sent their way as he ran from theater to theater, making sure they were in the clear. He would never hear the end of it if they happened to kill a Muggle. Once he was sure the area was clear, he found a spot furthest from where the Death Eaters were and closed his eyes.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he yelled, making sure to keep his wand arm steady as he made the zigzagging motion with his wrist. He opened his eyes to see that the wall where the spell had hit was crumbling and all around it, wood and stone were disintegrating. He let out a whoop of joy and went back to Ron.

"What'd I miss?" he asked, ducking to avoid a jet of green light.

"Voldemort's circling Harry, but so far he hasn't been able to land any curses. Harry's looking pretty good at the moment." He stopped to stun a Death Eater that was attempting to fly towards them. The fellow froze in mid air and dropped, like a heavy stone, onto a pair of Death Eaters below. "Oh, the snake's here. It's circling the doors, do you see it? It's over there." Ron pointed towards the doors that they had come in through and Draco spotted the scaly tail as it slithered by.

He grimaced. "The spell worked, I think we've got a few minutes before we have to evacuate. Think we can take her?"

Ron was hitting every Death Eater that looked their way with _Sectumsempra_; "Sure," he said, jumping to avoid a nasty looking yellow spell. As he straightened, Draco noticed the large gash on the side of his face, and that he was carrying his wand in his left hand, while the right hung limp.

"You sure you're all right? You can Apparate out, we'll save the snake for next time."

Ron shook his head. "I've seen worse days. We should move anyway, I don't know how long these boneheads can go on before one of them realizes that they can Apparate up here."

Draco laughed and with a nod, they Apparated. They ended up just out of view of the concession area, and right beside the snake. From there, they could hear the battle between Voldemort and Harry. Neither seemed ready to back down. In fact, from the anger and frustration in Voldemort's shouts, it was almost possible to imagine that he was surprised at how well Harry was doing.

Then the snake spotted them, and neither gave any more thought to Harry or Voldemort.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Draco shouted, and waited for the snake to fall lifeless. She never did; instead she rose higher, angry, and attacked. She missed them by inches. Draco had fallen, and he could feel shooting pain down his right leg. He tried to stand, only to cry out in distress.

"At least we tried," Ron said, helping him up. The room was covered in smoke, the top floor was falling in. They needed to find Harry and leave.

Ron, the stronger of the two, helped Draco nearer to the door. The smoke had also forced Nagini always from the doors, so their passage was clear. They saw Harry; he had taken a fall, but he spotted them and nodded. He looked injured, but better off than the pair of them. He made towards them, with Voldemort hot on his tail. "Apparate!" he shouted.

Ron and Draco left just as the roof began to collapse above them. And when they arrived on the steps of Grimmauld Place, Harry was not in sight.

Tears immediately flowed down Draco's face. In fact, he was so panicked that he did not at once realize that he had lived. For a second, he waited for a white light and pearly gates. He shook his head. Once he was in control of himself, he grabbed Ron. "Harry! We must go back!"

Ron nodded. They arrived right outside the front doors, where the Muggle police were stationed. The building had collapsed and the rubble had turned to dust. Most of the Death Eaters had Apparated in time, but they still saw bodies lined in the rubble. And no sign of Harry.

They walked towards the area where Voldemort and he had been dueling.

"HARRY!" Draco yelled, spotting the raven-haired savior squatted in front of a giant dead snake.

"Sorry," he said as Draco limped over. "I didn't have energy left to Apparate."

Draco dragged his leg over a large rock and winced. Harry noticed and quickly stood to help. As soon as he was near enough, Draco grabbed him and kissed him fiercely. "You can't leave me, understand? I won't let you go that easy."

Harry smiled and laughed lightly. "The Muggles are watching us, we better go before they start questioning us. Ron, how you holding up?" he asked, as they walked away from the destruction.

Ron smiled brightly through the dried blood on his face. "Alright! Could use a shower, but I'm not complaining."

"Anyone bring a Portkey?" Harry asked, noticing that the Muggles were approaching.

Ron dug into his pocket. "I have one to headquarters." He tapped a tapped a small plastic polar bear with his wand and they each grabbed hold.

Draco felt the pull of the Portkey and the warmth of Harry's body as they sped towards Headquarters and he let the relief sink in. They had destroyed the only thing remaining between them and Voldemort's destruction.

At Headquarters, Tonks was waiting for them with her arms crossed. "We got a report that another Cineplex was destroyed in London. Fifteen minutes later, a report came back that Harry Potter was dueling with Lord Voldemort..."

Harry cut her off; he was having trouble catching his breath after the Portkey. "I don't think I can handle this right now." Draco nodded. He looked to Ron, who nodded in understanding.

Tonks, now noticing the state of all three, immediately came to their aid. She and Ron helped Harry inside, while Draco tried desperately not to collapse from the pain in his leg as he followed. They made it to the drawing room, where they both collapsed onto the couch. Ron and Tonks left to find medical help. Harry immediately fell asleep against Draco's side. The blond did his best not to move. He didn't want to disturb Harry, but he also had to deal with tremendous pain in his left leg.

He extended the leg as far as he could handle and pointed his wand. He closed his eyes just in case his healing spells hadn't improved with the bonding.

"All right there, Malfoy?" Tonks asked, coming into the room with tea.

"Are you good with healing charms?" He pointed to his broken ankle.

She nodded confidently. "Sure! No problem! Just take a jiffy..." Draco closed his eyes as she waved her wand. He tried to move his leg.

"You have got to be kidding me!" He opened his eyes and yes, everything was just as he expected. "Professor Lockhart, is that you? Have they released you from St. Mungo's already?"

Even Tonk's hair turned red. "I'll find some Skele-Gro." She hurried off. Draco closed his eyes and tried to be grateful that the pain was gone, even if his leg no longer had bones.

To his right, Harry nuzzled against his neck. The nuzzling was shortly followed by a chaste kiss and a pronounced yawn. "We need to get home. I don't want people fussing in the morning."

"Can you handle another Portkey?" Draco asked, tangling his fingers in Harry hair. "I wouldn't want you to fall out and land on a highway somewhere."

Harry laughed weakly. "I think in this situation, it's you who probably shouldn't be using magical transportation. What do you think about a cab?"

Draco was silent. "Well," he said carefully. "I don't really think about cabs."

Harry laughed, this time stronger than before. "Being near you makes me feel better... I bet if you kissed me, I'd be ready to kill a thousand Death Eaters."

Damn his emotions! Draco couldn't help but feel a tug at his heartstrings, and a new wetness in his eyes. He didn't respond.

Harry placed a follow up kiss on his neck. "Don't be ashamed to cry, Draco." At this remark, Draco turned his head and looked into Harry's bright green eyes.

"First of all, a Malfoy is not ashamed of anything. And secondly, I was not going to cry. If perhaps there are tears in my eyes, they are there because what I have been through has been stressful and traumatic. Not, I assure you, because you put your bony arse at risk, once again. Put me at risk, at that!" The tears were flowing quite freely at this point, and Draco's voice was more weak and wavering than steady and clear.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him to his chest. As Draco cried, Harry was unsure of how to best comfort him. He remembered a song he used to hear on the radio when he was a child. In his cupboard, he would sing it at night, imagining his mother there with him. It had always made him feel better. That said, he only remembered bits and pieces of the words. He hadn't thought of the song in years.

"Did you ever know that you're my hero? You're everything I wish I could be. I could fly higher than an eagle... if you are the wind beneath my wings," he hummed as quietly as possible, lest Sirius' mother heard him and began to wail. "It might appear to go... unnoticed, but I've got it here in my heart. I want you to know the truth... I would be nothing without you."

Sometime in the middle of his atrocious singing, Draco had stopped crying. When he finished, he felt Draco chuckle into his shirt.

Harry sighed. "I couldn't think of what to do, and I used to sing that song when I... but never mind, I should just be glad it made you laugh."

Draco shifted, and looked up at him. He smiled and placed a quick peck to Harry's dry lips. Harry automatically closed his eyes in anticipation. Draco waited a moment, staring at Harry's open expression, thinking it was impossible to love anything so much.

He gave Harry his kiss and more. When Tonks walked in with a large bottle of Skele-Gro, she had to clear her throat three times before they stopped.

"Uh..." she started, her hair still red, "Ron said you two might want to head home, so I brought a Portkey... but I think it's good if you two wait for Madam Pomfrey... we sent word to Hogwarts for her, since we can't take you to St. Mungo's..."

Harry shook his head fervently, already getting to his feet, and hauling Draco up with him. "We're fine, Tonks, Draco will take the Skele-Gro and we'll see Madam Pomfrey in the morning... she can patch up any other cuts and bruises that we can't heal ourselves. Right now, however, we are going home."

Tonks did not stand in their way. She handed over the Portkey and said she'd be by in the afternoon with the medi-witch.

Draco, unable to balance himself, was more than happy to let Harry scoop him into his masculine arms as the Portkey was activated and they traveled through space and time toward home.

They arrived, most gratefully, in their bedroom, where Harry laid Draco in his bed and gave him the Skele-Gro to drink. "This is probably the most disgusting potion on the market... try not to spit it out, all right?" Draco nodded and drank. It burnt his throat and the immediate pain it cause was almost unbearable, but he managed to keep drinking it down. Before he took the sleeping draught that Harry brought him from the medicine drawer, he had a final request. He tugged on Harry's arm until the other boy sat on the bed.

"Don't try to leave me, Potter. I want you near, so I can strangle you in the morning for nearly dying."

Harry laughed and went about undressing them both for the night.

* * *

**A/N:** First, I'm sorry it's taken over a year for this. I'm not going to going to lie and make promises about chapter 22, I'm just going to say that I miss the boys and I want to see a resolution to this.


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